


A Frigid World

by DynastyKit



Series: The Tenmar Collection [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Abandonment, Abortion, Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alcohol, Angst, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Capture, Cheating, Deception, Drugs, F/M, Forsworn, Friendship, Gangs, Gen, Imperials, Imprisonment, Marriage, Non-Dragonborn Main Characters, Non-Explicit Sex, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partial Nudity, Plot Twists, Relationship(s), Skooma, Stormcloaks, Tags Contain Spoilers, Telepathy, Vampires, Violence, Virginity, mostly OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 05:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 43,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9221066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DynastyKit/pseuds/DynastyKit
Summary: A young Khajiit must travel through the frozen world that is Skyrim, but he will have some help. An adventure of two unlikely companions filled with action, comedy, romance, and unending twists and turns. This Khajiit will have to overcome everything this icy, foreign land can throw at him-- will he be able do it and prove his worth?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading the first chapter of "A Frigid World"! This is my first, and hopefully not last, attempt at an Elder Scrolls fan fiction. If people enjoy this fan fiction, I plan on writing and releasing many other stories that take place across Tamriel (and maybe even beyond). 
> 
> If you enjoyed it, or have any corrections or criticism, leave a comment! I hope you'll check out the rest of the fan fiction as well as it's released! Thanks again for reading!

The small Khajiit shivered inside of the carriage. His thick fur, coupled with an abundance of blankets, coats, and other fabrics wrapped around him, was not enough to save him from the bitter cold of Skyrim’s mountains. The Khajiit wasn’t the only passenger tormented by the frigid temperature; inside of the closed cart was also a female Argonian seated next to the Khajiit, and a large, burly male Orsimer— who seemed cramped even though he had the entire left side of the carriage to himself. 

“Whadda’ you lookin’ at, cat?” the Orc suddenly spat out.

The Khajiit flinched at the coarse voice as he had been unconsciously watching the Orc, who wore nothing but thin pants and shoes despite the freezing cold— even the Argonian had her scales wrapped up. 

“Well!?” the Orc’s voice became increasingly aggressive.

The feline quickly looked down at his lap, avoiding any eye contact with the hostile Orc. “Ma’zhar is to speak to no one unless it’ll help him get to his brother,” the words of Ma’zhar’s mother echoed throughout his mind as the young Khajiit kept his gaze away from the Orsimer.

“I know who you are, cat. I’ve seen you with her before,” the Orc’s tone shifted from hostile to arrogant. “I know you got the good stuff.”

Ma’zhar trembled as he continued to avoid the Orc, but it seemed as though the carriage was closing in on him. He glanced over at the Argonian sitting next to him, but she was not to be his salvation as she paid no attention to the two. 

“Damn it, cat!” the Orsimer growled as he reached forward and gripped Ma’zhar’s slender neck with his giant palm.

Ma’zhar began to shake violently with horror, knowing well that the Orc could effortlessly crush his neck with a simple squeeze. As quickly as he could manage, the nimble Khajiit pulled out his small dagger— which was only concealed by his outermost blanket —and drove it into the stomach of the Orc. 

The immediate reaction to the stab was a pained gasp and a jerk by the Orsimer, who promptly released Ma’zhar’s neck. Ma’zhar sighed with relief as he believed he had saved himself, but his brief comfort immediately vanished as the Orc began to laugh and gloat, “You think that’s enough to kill an Orc!? I’m gonna skin you like a-” 

Ma’zhar gasped as he watched the Orc be silenced by a second dagger piercing the Orc’s thick skull, killing him instantly. The sudden assault was the work of the previously inactive female Argonian. “I should’ve done this earlier,” the Argonian grumbled as she freed her blade from the Orsimer’s head. The Orc’s large body then collapsed onto the much smaller Khajiit, who squirmed under it as he struggled to get free. “Come on, Khajiit. We need to go,” the Argonian said as she helped Ma’zhar push the body off of him. 

Ma’zhar reclaimed his dagger from the dead Orc. Although he was grateful for her assistance, he could not join her. Ma’zhar stayed silent and shook his head. The Argonian became audibly annoyed as she spoke again, “Look, I don’t have time to explain. My clan is coming after you. We need to get you out of here.”

The Khajiit was conflicted on what to do; he knew he had a job to do, but he also knew that this danger could be very real. Before the Khajiit could respond, the voice of the carriage driver could be heard, “What are you doing!? Get away from me! Ah!” A horrific shriek from the driver seemed to be the conclusion of whatever conflict had arisen.

“Damn it! They’re already here!” the Argonian growled under her breath. The Argonian then closed her eyes and took a deep breath before unsheathing another dagger. “Come on, Shei-Ja. There is only four of them. Sithis is with you,” Shei-Ja told herself as she faced the doors of the closed carriage with her weapons ready. 

Ma’zhar cowered behind the Argonian as best as he could. A few tense, silent moments passed after the carriage had stopped moving. However, the silence was suddenly broken by the sound of a female warcry and the sounds of clashing metal. “What is going on...?” Shei-Ja sounded puzzled as she cautiously opened up the carriage door. 

Ma’zhar could not help but peer over her shoulder to see the situation for himself. Outside, a large human female dressed in leather armor battled against two Argonians and another human, with a third human lying motionless in the snow. “Come on, you bastards!” the female human roared as she fiercely attacked all three of her opponents, swinging her mace and blocking incoming attacks with her shield.

“Perfect. Let’s go,” Shei-Ja whispered while she got out of the carriage and slipped away from the action. 

At first, Ma’zhar planned to follow her; then he noticed the powerful woman slay another of her adversaries, sending the human attacker to the snowy ground with a forceful swing of her mace to his skull. Ma’zhar shed all of his blankets but one, crawled out of the carriage, and began to run in the opposite direction of Shei-Ja; unfortunately, his digitigrade legs were not used to the sinking nature of the deep snow, so he tripped and fell. As Ma’zhar clumsily picked himself up, he noticed that the female warrior had downed all of her opponents but one. However, the woman was no longer on the attack; she was on the ground, clutching a wound on her leg while the last attacker— bloody and battered himself —closed in on her.

All of this took place only a dozen feet away from Ma’zhar. As he watched the events unfold, his eyes became locked with the injured female’s for a brief moment. The Khajiit’s eyes began to water as he saw the defeat on her face after seeing her strong and proud just a few moments earlier. Ma’zhar finally stood up straight and took his dagger in hand once more, running towards the final Argonian attacker and leaping onto his back, while plunging his dagger into it multiple times. Ma’zhar heard the Argonian howl with pain and felt him struggle around, but his attack was cut short when the Argonian sent his elbow into the forehead of Ma’zhar, knocking the Khajiit into a dazed state almost instantly as he lost his grip and slipped off of the Argonian.


	2. Chapter 2

Ma’zhar stirred in the freezing snow. His head throbbing violently now as he could not help but groan in pain. Ma’zhar had landed flat on his back; his vision was blurry and everything was quiet, but he could see tiny snowflakes gently descending around him. Before much longer, muffled voices came into his perception. Although he could not make out what the voices were saying, he recognized them. They were the voices of the female warrior and Shei-Ja— the Argonian from the carriage. With each passing second, the voices became clearer and clearer. Ma’zhar began to understand a few words here and there, before he could hear full sentences.

“You stupid, warmblood! You have no idea what you’re dealing with!” Shei-Ja shouted. “If you take the Khajiit, you will die!”

“So that’s it, is it?!” the woman shouted in a hardy Nordic accent. “You and your bandits wanted the cat?!”

“I told you I’m not with them! I’m trying to protect him!” Shei-Ja argued. “Look! They did this to me!” Ma’zhar slowly turned his head in the direction of the two to see Shei-Ja’s evidence. Shei-Ja had turned around and pointed at her rear, normally Argonians would have a long, bulky tail but instead there was just a nub from a former tail. 

“Anything could’ve done that!” the woman held up her mace as if she was winding up to swing. “If you don’t get out of here, you’ll lose much more than your tail!” 

“You’ll regret this,” Shei-Ja growled, before sprinting away quickly.

The woman sighed before strapping her mace to her waist, then picking up her shield off of the ground and fastening it on her back. She stepped over to Ma’zhar, and kneeled down in front of him. “Aw, you poor little kitten,” She gently stroked his forehead, eliciting a gentle purr from him.   
The woman smiled as she delicately lifted Ma’zhar. The woman’s eyes were a deep hazel color, her wavy, strawberry blonde hair fell down to her shoulders, and her face— while smooth and even— had the onset of wrinkles, which gave her a learned and graceful appearance. “You’re a cute one. You look just like Wuuthy at home. Can you understand me, kitten?” Even while speaking in a cutesy, singsong voice, her voice still resonated with her thick Nordic accent.

Ma’zhar nodded; he did not know if he should speak, but he felt safer in her arms than he had felt since he left home. 

The female’s smile grew, “Good. Are you feeling okay? You took a big hit earlier.”

Ma’zhar hesitated before opening his mouth for the first time since he left home. “M-Ma’zhar’s head hurts…” His speech was shaky and unsteady.

“Huh? Is that your name? Ma… Zar? Ma’Char?” She questioned before shaking her head suddenly. “Oh, never mind. It doesn’t matter right now. I need to take care of you,” the woman began walking away from the scene with Ma’zhar cradled in her arms. 

“W-What is the Nord’s name?” Ma’zhar felt compelled to ask.

“Me? They call me Ysola,” she responded. 

“Ma’zhar thanks Ysola for saving him.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Those bastards killed my horse and tried to rob me on my way to Helgen, so I tracked ‘em down here. Those crafty bastards might’ve had me if you hadn’t helped. So thank you, too,” Ysola thanked him cheerfully. 

“Ma’zhar saw that they got Ysola’s leg, yes? He hopes that Ysola is okay,” Ma’zhar spoke in a troubled tone.

“I’m fine. That cut would hardly hurt a milkdrinker. I’m more worried about your legs… Can you even walk, kitten?” Ysola questioned.

“This one’s legs feel fine…” Ma’zhar quickly looked down at his legs. He did not observe anything wrong, and he wiggled them to make sure they functioned well. Although he had little desire to leave Ysola’s comforting arms, Ma’zhar needed to make sure he could indeed walk, “Set Ma’zhar down, please.” 

Ysola delicately set Ma’zhar onto his feet, and Ma’zhar began to walk to and fro with no issue. However, Ysola gave a shocked reaction as she watched the Khajiit walk with ease, “Your legs! They’re all crooked!”

Ma’zhar looked down at his legs once more before finally realizing Ysola’s distress; he figured that his digitigrade legs seemed odd, since most other bipedal beings were plantigrade with flat feet. “Don’t worry, Ysola,” Ma’zhar assured her. “This Khajiit is Suthay. Born when both moons were new. Suthay share the legs of their four-legged brethren.”

“Hm…” Ysola scratched her head, looking a bit confused. “Okay… Well, I’m glad you can walk.”

“Ma’zhar has a favor to ask,” Ma’zhar looked up at the Nord, who may have been nearly two feet taller than him. 

“Mhm?” Ysola inquired.

“This one needs to get to the city called Solitude to find his brother. Ma’zhar was planning to ride that carriage all the way there, but… Anyways, Ma’zhar has no idea how to get to Solitude,” The Khajiit pleaded nervously.

“Ah, I understand! Perfect! I live near Solitude. If you don’t mind a little detour, I can take you there. As payment for helping me,” Ysola answered. 

Ma’zhar sighed with relief; he was worried he’d be stuck out in Skyrim alone. “A detour?”

“Only to Helgen. I’m visiting some of my family. We’re close already. We can make it there before nightfa-” Ysola was suddenly silenced by a thundering, otherworldly roar. 

They both turned immediately towards the echoing sound. Ma’zhar shivered at the mere thought of the creature that produced such a powerful sound. “Do many of Skyrim’s beasts sound like that?” He asked Ysola, who still appeared to be taken aback by the roar.

“I’ve never heard such a sound. In all my years...” Ysola muttered as her eyes stayed fixed on that direction. “But that’s in the direction we’re going. Come on,” She said as she began walking. Ma’zhar quickly followed her, staying as close to her as he possibly could. 

As they headed toward their destination, the roar happened a few more times, but ultimately ceased. However, smoke began to fill the air around them as they walked on. “What is going on…? Is Helgen burning?!” Ysola suddenly shouted and began sprinting as some buildings could be seen through the trees and smoke. Ma’zhar followed behind her until she finally stopped after they exited the trees and stood in front of a razed, burning collection of buildings and fortifications.

After her brief pause, Ysola rushed into the the open gates of the blazed Helgen. This time, Ma’zhar did not follow her instantaneously, but eventually stepped into the fiery fort. Ma’zhar jumped around after entering Helgen, attempting to avoid airborne embers as he felt they might scorch his fur. He eventually spotted Ysola kneeling over a charred body on the ground; as he approached her, he could hear her sobbing. He stood behind her awkwardly for a few moments, not knowing what to do. 

Eventually, Ma’zhar kneeled down next to her and hugged her around her waist. Ysola sighed and spoke glumly “Thank you… This was my cousin, Torolf… I was coming to Helgen to visit them…”

“Ma’zhar is very sorry,” He said softly.

“It’s okay...” Ysola began to stand up, and Ma’zhar let her go. Ysola wiped her eyes and cleared her throat before speaking again. “I don’t see Haming or his mother, so maybe they made it out safe.” Ma’zhar nodded silently. “Let’s just go. There’s no more reason for me to be here,” Ysola said as she headed back for the gates of Helgen, taking a piece of burning flame to use as a torch as the night approached. 

“I swear if I ever meet the beast that did this…” Ma’zhar heard Ysola grumble under her breath as they exited Helgen; he did not even want to believe that one creature could create so much destruction, though he presumed that a monster capable of such terrifying roars could also cause such mayhem.

Ma’zhar took one last look at the flaming fort as it began to disappear from view. Night had fallen quickly and the bright flames lit up Helgen like the many stars in the sky. The chaotic aftermath of the attack was rather beautiful against the night sky, but Ma’zhar hoped this event wasn’t an omen of things to come during his time in Skyrim.


	3. Chapter 3

The two traveled for a couple hours through the night before they approached a small town. The trek was peaceful, if not cold and slightly eerie after their light source burned out. Despite inheriting the Khajiit’s natural ability to see in the dark, Ma’zhar was still uncomfortable with traveling through a new land during the night. 

“That’s Riverwood,” Ysola yawned as she pointed at a small collection of buildings. “We’ll stay here tonight.”

Although he was relieved to finally reach somewhere to take shelter, Ma’zhar was more mystified by the presence of a nearby mountain. He had never seen anything that rivaled its size and magnitude. 

“That’s the Throat of the World,” Ysola said after she noticed Ma’zhar marveling at the giant mountain. “I always wanted to climb it. Maybe some day.” 

“Ma’zhar wonders if that is possible,” Ma’zhar responded.

“Course it is! People live up there, you know. Well, more like an old order with some magic that they do by speaking,” Ysola explained before they reached the doors to a building. 

Ysola entered first and Ma’zhar followed behind her. Inside was a well-lit room with a few inhabitants. All eyes fell upon the two entering the building, but a blonde woman holding a broom was the first to approach Ysola and begin speaking to her, “Ysola. You’re alive. I heard what happened at Helgen.”

Ysola sighed and walked passed the woman, taking a seat at the bar, “Did you? I wasn’t there. Well, not until after the damage was done. Fill me in.” Ysola briefly directed her attention to a man standing behind the bar, “Get me some mead.” 

“Hm,” The woman continued sweeping, “Two people came through here a couple hours ago. One of them was Alvor’s nephew. Anyways, they came through and said that a dragon attacked Helgen.”

“A dragon…? Do you believe them?” Ysola said before taking a long swig out of a bottle brought to her. 

“I saw it with my own eyes before the two even arrived. I didn’t know whether to believe it or not. But I guess this just confirmed it,” The blonde woman set down her broom and leaned against the wall. 

“Another,” Ysola said as she set down a now empty bottle. “Helgen looked like a dragon attacked it…”

As the two spoke, Ma’zhar stood awkwardly in the front of the room. However— much to his own dismay— Ma’zhar was soon approached by a fumbling patron with two bottles in his hands. “You’re kinda fuzzy, what’s wrong with ya?” The man slurred his words while swaying back and forth.

“Leave him alone, Embry,” The blonde woman interjected.

“You’re no fun, Delphine,” The drunkard hiccuped before clumsily returning to his seat.

Ysola glanced over at Ma’zhar after downing another bottle, “Give him a room. I’ll pay for it.”

“Oh. That is not necessary. Ma’zhar can pay for his own room,” he spoke shyly. 

“It’s the least I can do for a friend,” Ysola smiled at him. 

“Ma’zhar thanks you, friend,” Ma’zhar returned the smile.

Delphine stepped off of the wall and opened the door next to her, “You can have this room.” 

“Ysola will wake up Ma’zhar before she leaves, yes?” Ma’zhar asked as he walked over to his door.

Ysola nodded, now laying her head on the bar with four empty bottles next to her. “For sure…”

Ma’zhar sighed and walked into the room, closing the door behind him and looking around. The room was warm and cozy, enough for Ma’zhar to shed his blanket and let it fall to the floor below. He stepped over to the bed and took off his coat before reaching for one of two pouches that were fastened around his waist, pulling it free. Ma’zhar carefully placed the bag on the bed and opened it to examine its contents. Inside of the bag were three small bottles, a small pouch, and finally a piece of folded paper. The Khajiit let out a sigh of relief after finding that all of his cargo was unharmed. 

Out of curiosity, Ma’zhar unfolded the piece of paper and began reading it, “We have finally made progress with the new skooma brew. She decided not to write the recipe down but rather give it to our messenger so it doesn’t fall into the hands of anyone else, should he be captured. Test the new brew out with some of the regulars and if all goes well, send us word and we’ll begin including it in our shipments. It has been a great success with our tests and should prove to be the same in Skyrim. The brew— we’re calling it Tenmar Skooma —is supposed to prolong the euphoria and enhance skooma’s addictive properties, combine that with the stress of the war in Skyrim and I think we have a real money maker. Good luck and warm sands!” The letter was in the Khajiit’s native language of Ta’agra, which was standard of letters between Khajiit in Ma’zhar’s family. However, the letters were sloppy so Ma’zhar wondered if the letter was written by someone other than his mother.

Ma’zhar decided not to dwell on it any longer and he returned the contents to the pouch before tying it back around his waist. He now took off his shirt and pants, sighing in relief as he let his fur free for the first time in days. He blew out the candles lighting the room and lied down on the bed. His mind wandered between the multitude of the day’s events: Ysola, the Orc, the Argonians, the dragon. The thought of a dragon stuck in his mind specifically; Ma’zhar imagined a dragon as big as the Throat of the World stomping through the country and ultimately to him, where it would set him ablaze without a second thought. Before long, his thoughts and a dream began to fuse together and Ma’zhar had eventually drifted into sleep. 

A few hours later, Ma’zhar eyes slowly opened. His entire body ached with soreness and he wanted to continue sleeping, but his empty stomach would not allow it. Ma’zhar got dressed, and groaned as he dragged himself out of the comfortable bed and out of the room. The main room of the inn was empty and silent, save for the drunk man from earlier sleeping on the floor with nothing but a pillow— his loud snores echoing. Ma’zhar sighed in disappointment as no one was there to serve him any food. 

As he was preparing to return to his room, he noticed light begin to shine through the windows. He walked over to the inn doors and opened them as silently as he could before stepping outside. Ma’zhar crossed his arms and shivered as cold air hit him. As he exhaled, he could even see his frosty breath. He tried his best to ignore the temperature and instead focus on the sunrise. He sat down on the porch and leaned against the wall as he watched the sun come up and paint the horizon a mix of purple, yellow, blue and orange. Ma’zhar’s gaze was cut short when he heard brush rustling and his eyes quickly shifted to the trees. Although he could not see anyone, he no longer felt safe and immediately walked back into the inn. 

Inside, Delphine now stood behind the bar, placing food and drinks in a bag. Ma’zhar could see that she was dressed in armor with a blade at her side when she stepped from behind the bar. “Good morning,” she said.

Ma’zhar was intimidated by her look, hesitantly responding “Good morning…” 

Ma’zhar cowered as Delphine walked passed him and to the door. “Tell Ysola that I’m sorry I had to leave without saying farewell,” she told him before leaving the inn.

A few hours later, Ysola and Ma’zhar left the inn after purchasing some supplies for the trek to Solitude. Ma’zhar was hoping that the journey would be short, but it did not appear that would be so with the load of food and drink Ysola purchased. The two of them left the quiet town of Riverwood and continued through Skyrim. A large city soon came into their view. However, they hardly had time to take in the sights of the city as they witnessed four people fighting a large creature with the appearance of a man. 

Ma’zhar was astonished by the great size of the man. The battle did not last long which made Ysola hang her head; she had planned to join the fight, “Damn. I wanted to help them fight the giant.”

Ma’zhar shook his head. “Are there many men that size here in Skyrim?”

“That was a giant. More beast than man, most of the time at least. I’ve never fought one on my own, so let’s hope we don’t run across any on the way home,” Ysola said as she put away her mace. Ma’zhar trembled at the thought of being face-to-face with a giant and quickly followed his Nord companion. 

Soon the city— which Ysola explained was Whiterun —began to fade away as they continued. Besides the occasional military fort, any sort of buildings and signs of civilization were sparse. Ma’zhar witnessed a plethora of events in Skyrim’s nature from giants herding their mammoths in the plains to a doe leading her fawn to a stream of water. Although he was not overly fond of his situation, Ma’zhar appreciated observing the nature as he would not have gotten this view if he had stayed in a close carriage for the entire trip. 

“...And I took the spear and threw it as hard as I could at that bear! I promise you, he would’ve ate my brothers and me if I missed that throw!” Ysola was telling one of her stories to Ma’zhar— a pastime she regularly enjoyed during the trip —when Ma’zhar noticed an anomaly in the sky and could hardly pry his eyes away. Ysola noticed Ma’zhar’s fixed glare and looked up at the sky herself. “By the nine…” she uttered after witnessing the strange happening.

The sky had been blue and clear for the entire day, but in an instant clouds had begun to form and swirl violently above. At first, the clouds covered only a small portion of the sky but in seconds the clouds expanded and blanketed the entire sky. The clouds then darkened and commenced a raging storm, enveloping Ysola and Ma’zhar. The gale was fierce, the rain was icy, and the thunder was almost deafening. Ma’zhar was disoriented and Ysola did not appear much better; it was nearly impossible for Ma’zhar to see even a few feet in front of himself due to the the vicious storm.

However, Ma’zhar spotted a possible salvation. “Look!” He yelled out to Ysola as he grabbed her hand and pulled her in his direction. Far in the distance was a bright light that shined radiantly despite the storm. 

“Let’s go!” Ysola shouted in response as she gripped the Khajiit’s hand and dragged him along with her as she ran toward the light. 

The wind was blowing at their backs and helped them reach the light even quicker. As they approached the gleaming orb, it hovered to the left and revealed a building. While still holding onto Ma’zhar, Ysola quickly pushed her way into the building and shut the door immediately after Ma’zhar was safe inside. Ma’zhar and Ysola both panted— drenched but finally out of the storm. While Ysola gasped with her hands on her knees, Ma’zhar fell to his rear to the hard floor. He slowly lifted his head only to see nine unfamiliar faces gazing at him.


	4. Chapter 4

“Welcome to the Dreamlake Inn!” a man stepped toward the two of them. He was bald with a full red beard and a large grin. “We’re glad we found you. Please, come take a towel and sit by the fire,” Ma’zhar and Ysola both accepted the offer and sat in front of the fire on a log fashioned into bench together, with towels wrapped around each other; the rest of the group watching them soon dispersed into different areas in the large lobby of the inn. 

“Is it just you two?” a woman now asked them; her light brown hair was in a long ponytail. “I coulda swore I saw a third person out there.”

“Maybe you’ve just lost your touch, wife!” the man gave a hearty, Nordic laugh. 

“I’ll make you lose your touch if you don’t be quiet!” his wife scolded him playfully. “Husband,” she added at the end of her sentence teasingly. 

The man laughed again before taking a seat next to the fire himself. “Analise!” A small girl quickly appeared next to the man. “Get our new friends some drinks to warm them up!” he said to her. “Maybe some tea?” he asked Ma’zhar and Ysola.

“Mead. Any kind you got,” Ysola answered.

“Tea is fine…” Ma’zhar said quietly as he shivered from his soaked fur. 

“Good! You heard them, Analise! Hurry it up!” the girl ran off at the bearded man’s request. The man then turned his attention to his wife as she stood at the door with her hands glowing red. “Vanna. It’s fine. I don’t think there’s anyone out there.”

Vanna’s hands stopped glowing as she sighed and turned to her husband, “There was another person out there…” She walked away from the door and sat next to the bearded man. “Oh well. Who knew a storm would bring all these people in?”

“I think it makes a lot of sense, honey,” the bearded man gave another cordial laugh before speaking to Ma’zhar and Ysola again, “I’m Tolmik and this is my wife, Vanna. We opened Dreamlake Inn yesterday. It’s a good thing my wife dabbled in magic back in the day or else we might not’ve been able to get you out of that storm.”

“Well, thank you,” Ysola sighed.

“You’re welcome to stay here for free until the storm goes away. Space is getting tight so I hope you two won’t mind sharing a room. The last open one is the final room on the right,” Tolmik smiled at the two of them.

“Tolmik,” Vanna leaned in close and whispered to her husband— her whispers were not quiet enough for Ma’zhar to avoid hearing. “We need to make money. We can’t keep this place going if we don’t charge.” 

“I understand but we can’t help these people come here and then charge them. That isn’t right,” Tolmik responded in an equally noisy whisper. “We’ll at least give them rooms and feed them for the day. If the storm doesn’t end, then we’ll charge them for anything afterwards.”

Vanna huffed but nodded in response. At that moment, the child returned with two drinks on a platter which she presented to Ma’zhar and Ysola. “Ah, there you are, Analise! Maybe work a little faster next time, sweetie,” Tolmik said to the young girl, who nodded at him before walking away. 

“One day this place will be hers,” Vanna smiled as Analise walked away.

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Tolmik shook his head as he laughed. “Well, it was nice meeting you two.” Tolmik and Vanna both stood up. “Let us know if you ever need anything,” Tolmik said before the two of them walked away and into a basement hatch in the back.

“Ma’zhar thinks it is very odd how the storm formed,” the slowly drying Khajiit sipped his warm tea.

“I know. I’ve never seen anything like that before either,” Ysola chugged the bottle of mead quickly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the ones who own this place did it. You can’t trust mages and their magic.”

“It would take a very powerful mage to create a storm such as this,” Ma’zhar and Ysola both looked towards the high elf who suddenly interjected. He was wearing a black and gold robe with the hood up. “It’s something two humans would never be unable to accomplish.” Unlike most other things of Skyrim, Ma’zhar recognized this elf— or at least who he worked for. The presence of the Aldmeri Dominion and the Thalmor was great in his hometown of Leyawiin as they had some control over the city since the Great War. 

“No one wants to hear your pompous talk, Elf,” An old Nord grumbled in a low voice.

“Pompous!? How dare you!? I’m simply stating facts! Something you Nords like to ignore,” the Altmer put his hands behind his back and turned his face away from the Nord.

“Ugh,” the Nord groaned as he was slumped in his seat with his arms folded on the table. 

Ma’zhar’s attention was quickly drawn away from the squabble as a small Dunmer scampered next to him. “Hello, friend,” the Dark Elf smiled at Ma’zhar as he spoke quietly, in his hands was a closed, small chest. “I’ve got something that might interest you.” Ma’zhar did not know how to respond; he looked over at Ysola who was still paying attention to the Nord and High Elf. “No, no, look here, friend,” the Dunmer whispered.

Ma’zhar looked back towards the Dark Elf. The Dunmer opened the small chest and revealed an abundance of sparkling jewels, gems and jewelry inside. “Whether you’re looking to woo your girl or just spice up your look, Dralos Aryn of Dralos Aryn’s Traveling Jewelry has you covered!” although the Dunmer whispered, he still managed to sound thrilling. “Take a look for yourself. Try some on. Just don’t steal any,” Dralos winked at the Khajiit as he handed Ma’zhar the chest.

“Everything you see is available for the small price of just 200 septims!” Dralos continued as Ma’zhar stared at the shiny objects; the Khajiit was quite fond of their glow and glimmer. “You might be asking yourself, why is Dralos Aryn’s Traveling Jewelry so affordable?” Dralos said in his best Khajiit accent. “Well, my feline friend, it’s quite simple really. I, Dralos Aryn of Dralos Aryn’s Traveling Jewelry, found a secret, ash-buried deposit of various gems back in Morrowind, and I have so many jewels that I can’t hold them all! I gotta get rid of them quick and that’s why you, yes you, get them so cheap!” Dralos smiled widely at Ma’zhar.

“Uh… Ma’zhar does not know if he needs any gems…” Ma’zhar pried himself away from the gleaming box to look at the Dunmer.

Dralos kept his grin up, “That’s okay! I don’t just have gems! I have necklaces, rings, piercings in there too!” 

“Yes, but-” Ma’zhar attempted to speak but the Dunmer continued. 

“Look here! I’ve even got a perfect example of the magic Dralos Aryn’s Traveling Jewelry can do!” Dralos pointed at a couple sitting at a table across the room, a female human was sitting on a male’s lap as the two kissed each other intensely. “When those two got here, they were bickering like an old, married couple! The man came to Dralos Aryn, and well, you see what Dralos Aryn’s Traveling Jewelry can do!” Dralos directed the Khajiit’s attention back to him as he winked and continued in a sultry tone, “Now wouldn’t you like to have some of that fun with that Nord lady of yours?”

Ma’zhar ears flickered at Dralos’s voice. He glanced over at the kissing couple before turning his head back to Ysola. She had her head turned from him originally, but looked at him a few moments later, giving him a smile and asking, “How are you doing? You looked really cold earlier.”

Ma’zhar returned the smile, “Ma’zhar is doing great.” She nodded before looking away again. He wondered what it would be like to kiss someone, to love someone; in his young life, he had never gotten the opportunity to do either. The Khajiit turned back to Dralos Aryn— the Dunmer’s grin as big as ever —and told him, “Ma’zhar would like to buy.”

“Perfect, perfect!” the Dunmer rejoiced before taking his chest back from Ma’zhar. “Can I put you down for maybe two pieces of jewelry? Five even? Dralos Aryn has many special deals available!” 

“Ma’zhar would just like one. But can he buy this somewhere more discreet?” the Khajiit responded; though he knew he had the funds to buy multiple, he did not think it was necessary. 

“Oh! So it is to be a surprise gift! Good choice, my friend,” Dralos dropped his voice and began walking away before motioning for the Khajiit to follow him. Ma’zhar quickly glanced at Ysola— who was paying no mind —before following Dralos into a room. Inside of the room, Dralos held the chest open in front of Ma’zhar. “Take your pick! Any pick! Any item is just 200 septims!” Dralos exclaimed.

“One moment,” Ma’zhar reached for one of the pouches tied around his waist. This bag was much heavier, and Ma’zhar had to sit it on a table to be able to open it. The bag was filled with an abundance of septims; Ma’zhar took them out in handfuls and set them on the table. 

Dralos’s eyes widened as he stared at the small fortune the Khajiit was carrying. “That’s… quite a bit of coin,” the Dunmer said in astonishment. Ma’zhar ignored the statement as he was busy counting 200 septims. 

After finishing counting a few moments later, Ma’zhar looked closely at the chest of jewelry. One stood out to him in particular: a gold necklace with an olivine gem that glimmered just like Ysola’s eyes. He did have his eyes on a ruby necklace too— he was mesmerized by the red color. However, he took the olivine necklace and watched as the Dunmer quickly counted the gold. “With all that coin, I bet it wouldn’t hurt to buy a second one, right?” Dralos chuckled, but Ma’zhar refused by shaking his head. “Fine. It was good doing business with you, friend!” Dralos took his coin and scurried out of the room. 

Ma’zhar hid the necklace in his pocket before leaving the room also. He rejoined Ysola next to the fire, who seemed concerned about him with her tone, “Don’t go sneaking off like that, kitty! I was worried.” 

The Khajiit gave his cutest smile and spoke innocently, “Sorry. Ma’zhar will not do it again.”

Ysola returned the smile before looking around, “I wonder when those people will come back out. I need some more mead.” She gently shook her bottle to check for any last drops. 

“Excuse me?” Ma’zhar heard a voice say from behind. Ysola and Ma’zhar both turned to see a young man standing above them; the man was slender and not too tall. He wore a shabby cowl and held a worn satchel, and his face was scruffy due to not shaving for a few days. 

“Yes?” Ysola asked.

“I’m Menello Lachan. I’m a writer from Cyrodiil. I was wondering if I could ask you two a few questions— for a book I’m writing,” he spoke confidently with a friendly smile. 

“A book?” Ysola grinned and said with intrigue, “Why would you need us for a book?”

Menello chuckled and sat down next to Ysola, “Well, it isn’t really a book. It’s sort of an article. You see, I come to Skyrim every month and write about whatever is going on,” Menello began to take out a journal, ink, and a feather, “Then I take it all back to the Imperial City and sell it. I call it ‘Tales from the North’. It’s a big hit.”

“The Imperial City? I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never been,” Ysola leaned in a bit closer to Menello with her chin resting on her hand. Ma’zhar pouted at the sight; Ma’zhar was from Cyrodiil too, but Ysola never looked at him like that. Then again, he thought, he had never brought it up to her. 

“Yeah, it’s a nice place,” Menello continued, leaning away from the encroaching Nord. “Now then,” he continued, “You two are travelling together, right?”

Ysola nodded, “We are.”

“I’m curious,” Menello began, “How does a Khajiit and a Nord end up travelling together?”

“Well, it was a bit of a coincidence,” Ysola said before she began to speak of the entire event of her and Ma’zhar being attacked, and ultimately meeting and traveling together.

Menello nodded and wrote as Ysola spoke, but stopped her as soon as she mentioned the events of Helgen, “Wait, you say a dragon attacked Helgen? A dragon? A real one? From the legends?”

“Well, we think so,” Ysola nodded. “We heard its dreadful roar and saw the destruction it left at Helgen ourselves.”

“Wow…” Menello sighed as he quickly scribbled words in the journal. “Please, give me as much detail as you can. I’ll have to make a stop by Helgen myself, but I need to hear what you saw.”

At this point, everyone in the room had quieted down to hear Ysola recall what had happened. Meanwhile, Ma’zhar fiddled with the necklace in his pocket. He wondered where, when, and how would be the correct way to give his gift. Although eager to give it to her, Ma’zhar sighed and decided he would handle it whenever the time came as something else had caught his attention. Ma’zhar’s eyes floated over to a man sitting in a dark corner of the room. The man was staring out of a window, seemingly watching the furious storm. This was the only one in the inn that Ma’zhar did not see when he entered, and he still could not make out his appearance as he wore a black hood and cloak. As Ma’zhar gazed at the mysterious man, the man turned toward Ma’zhar and locked eyes with him. The Khajiit was startled; he averted his stare so quickly that all he could make out about the figure was that he was a man— probably.


	5. Chapter 5

The day passed slowly, or maybe quickly, Ma’zhar did not know as the storm blocked out any sight of the sun or moons. He only knew that the storm had been raging for hours and that he was getting tired. It must have been getting late; many of the other patrons had left to their rooms for the night. Only three remained in the main room: Ma’zhar, Ysola, and the mysterious man. 

Ma’zhar yawned. “Ma’zhar is getting sleepy…” he said to Ysola, trying to hint to her that he wished for her to come to bed with him.

“Alright. I guess it’s about time to sleep,” Ysola seemed to pick up on the idea as she stood up and began walking to their room. 

Ma’zhar took one last glance at the mysterious man before beginning to follow Ysola. “You two,” The man suddenly spoke for the first time since they had gotten here. 

Ysola and Ma’zhar both quickly turned to the dark, solitary corner. “Yes?” Ysola asked in a vastly curious tone.

“Watch yourselves, tonight,” the man spoke ominously in his gruff voice as he stood up; his cloak still draping around him. His face was hardly visible, but it could be seen that he had fair skin and a thin, black beard.

“From what…?” Ysola questioned; Ma’zhar was now shaken next to her.

“Someone here can not be trusted,” the man said as he stepped into his room and closed the door, leaving Ma’zhar and Ysola frightened and confused respectively. 

The two wasted no time retreating into their room. “There is nothing to be afraid of, yes?” Ma’zhar asked, hoping Ysola could settle his fears.

“I don’t know. That guy seemed a little shady,” Ysola shrugged.

Ma’zhar frowned in disappointment, but tried to keep his mind off of it. Instead, Ma’zhar and Ysola both stood awkwardly in the room. The bed was not large at all; it looked like it was hardly meant for one body. “Ma’zhar will sleep on the floor,” Ma’zhar uttered at the uneasy situation.

“No. I can’t make you do that,” Ysola responded. “You’re not that big. I’m sure we can both fit,” she suggested, but upon looking at the bed again, it was not even certain that Ysola herself would fit. 

“Well, Ma’zhar can try,” Ma’zhar truly did not want to sleep on the floor. They both turned away from each other as they disrobed. The young Khajiit did not know how to handle himself in this situation— he wondered if averting his gaze would be polite. It was not possible for Ma’zhar to keep his eyes completely free of Ysola, as they had another obstacle to hurdle. 

Ma’zhar and Ysola stood at opposite sides of the bed, both clothed in only underwear. “Ma’zhar does not need much room. Ysola should lie down, and Ma’zhar will squeeze in,” Ma’zhar offered.

“Alright,” Ysola complied and lied on the bed— surprisingly she fit but not much room was left for the Khajiit. “Get the light while you’re at it,” she added. Ma’zhar nodded and blew out the first candle lighting the room. “Wuuthy likes to go out at night a lot,” Ysola continued as Ma’zhar blew out another candle. “And I heard cats can see in the dark. Is it true?” 

Ma’zhar blew out the final candle before answering, “Yes. Khajiit can see in the dark.” Ma’zhar walked back to the bed and managed to fit himself on it— though his fur was pressed against her skin. “Ma’zhar is sorry if his fur bothers Ysola.”

“I don’t mind it. It’s warm,” Ysola answered. 

“Ma’zhar was wondering…” Ma’zhar began to ask as he tried to get comfortable on his tight area of the bed. 

“Yeah?”

“Ysola mentioned someone— Wuuthy?” Ma’zhar asked. “She compares Ma’zhar to…” Ma’zhar did not even know how to address this Wuuthy. “...it a lot. Who is Wuuthy?”

“Oh! Wuuthy is my pet cat!” Ysola paused for a brief moment before continuing in a rushed, panicked tone, “I mean friend! Wuuthy is my friend… cat.”

“Ma’zhar understands. He has seen others have cats as pets,” Ma’zhar wondered what it would be like to be a pet. He did not think it was possible unless he happened to be an Alfiq, a small housecat-like Khajiit; he figured he would probably be more of a slave in his current state. 

“Okay…” Ysola sounded a bit uncomfortable. “I hope you don’t think it’s bad. We take great care of him. We actually rescued him,” Ysola tried to defend herself.

“Ma’zhar does not mind at all,” Ma’zhar turned his head to Ysola and smiled, not realizing her vision was not capable of seeing in the dark. 

“Good,” Ma’zhar could hear Ysola sigh, “Goodnight… Ma’zhar?” Ysola sounded uncertain of her pronunciation. 

“Ma’zhar is glad Ysola is learning how to say his name,” Ma’zhar said which made them both chuckle. “Goodnight, Ysola.” 

Ma’zhar had no problem falling asleep; his conversation with Ysola managed to shed the thought of the man’s warning from his mind, and the pitter-patter of the rain outside soothed him to sleep. His sleep did not last until he naturally awoke, however, as he was suddenly woken up by a frightened shriek. 

Ma’zhar jolted at the sudden scream; it was somewhat recognizable but not too familiar. He sat up immediately and quickly scanned the room for danger, but saw nothing. Ysola lifted herself up much slower, with no urgency at all. “You hear that?” she yawned and rubbed her eyes. 

Ma’zhar’s breaths were quick and heavy. Before he could respond, the sound of doors opening, gasps, and questions could be heard. “Y-Yes…” Ma’zhar responded shakily.

Ysola sighed, “Sounds like a commotion.” She slowly dragged herself out of bed and to her armor. The room was still dark, but light from under the door lit the room well enough. Ma’zhar climbed out of bed also, and began to get dressed while trying to stay calm. 

As the two finished putting on their clothes and armor, their door swung open. “Are you two alright!?” One of the inn owners, Tolmik, stood at the door with a sword in hand. His demeanor was completely different than the jovial man they saw yesterday; he now looked fear stricken with wide eyes and an utterly pale face. 

“Yes…” Ysola answered, lifting up her mace as she eyed Tolmik’s sword. 

“Good,” Tolmik sighed and looked down, shaking his head, “Something… unfortunate has happened.”


	6. Chapter 6

Everyone was gathered in the lobby of the inn now— everyone but one. An aura of confusion and fear blanketed the room. “Alright, everyone,” Tolmik had an aptly serious tone as he stood at the center of the room with his wife, appearing rattled, next to him. “Someone here has committed a murder.” There were gasps, mutters, and whispers among the small crowd of seven until they were silenced by a loud boom of thunder. “We don’t know who did it, but—” 

“If you did this, get out!” a shouting, angry Vanna interrupted her husband. “My daughter lives here! She’s just a child! If you’re the bastard who did this, you can just walk out that door right now!” Vanna was no longer shaking with fear; she was now shaking with fury.

Nevertheless, no one budged. The inn customers began to look around suspiciously; Ma’zhar’s own eyes fell upon the mysterious man who gave them a warning last night. He wondered if the man could be trusted. 

“The High Elf made lots of enemies last night with his boasting. So I understand why someone could’ve done this. If you did, you may take your leave and we will forget this incident…” Tolmik said as he began to comfort his wife by rubbing her shoulders. 

Dralos Aryn seemed the most nervous out of every one, before he spoke up and began walking to his room, “I think it’s time for me to go…”

“So it was you!” Vanna yelled suddenly as she pulled free of her husband and held up her glowing hands, seemingly ready to attack the Dunmer with a spell.

“No! No!” Dralos Aryn cowered, covering his face and turning away in an attempt to defend himself.

“Vanna!” Tolmik exclaimed as he grabbed his wife’s wrists and wrestled them behind her back. “Stop!”

“Let me go! He’s a murderer! He could’ve hurt my daughter!” Vanna growled as she desperately tried to break free. 

“I’m not a murderer! I swear!” Dralos Aryn yelled, still attempting to shield himself. 

Vanna eventually began to calm down, breathing heavily as her hands slowly lost the aura surrounding them. “Explain yourself,” she panted; her husband still holding her.

Dralos Aryn slowly shifted out of his defensive position as he spoke frantically. “I-I need to leave! An Elf just died, and I’m the last Elf here! I don’t want to be next!” 

“Alright…” Tolmik sighed, “I guess that makes sense.” 

“Th-Thank you.” Dralos Aryn quickly retreated into his room, and could be seen quickly gathering his possessions.

“I think we should leave too, love,” the female of the couple kissing earlier said to her lover.

The male nodded. “I think you’re right. Let’s go get our things.” 

Seeing them plan to leave, Ma’zhar looked up at Ysola and asked, “Does Ysola think it’s time to leave?”

“Probably,” Ysola answered while looking down at the Khajiit.

“How’d the bastard die anyway?” the old Nord asked with his arms crossed. 

“I guess you can take a look for yourself…” Tolmik stepped over to the Altmer’s room and opened the door. 

Nearly everyone piled into the room quickly. Ma’zhar followed behind Ysola, and peered out from behind her. The Altmer seemed to have died peacefully; the corpse was laid out on its back only slightly ajar from any normal sleeping position. A red puddle surrounded the head and torso, and the blood also covered his neck. Menello stepped the closest to the scene, as he was drawing a crude sketch in his journal. 

“Slit his throat,” the old Nord stated. 

Ma’zhar did not much like the scene. It had been the second day he had seen so much death. The young Khajiit was not used to this; it was never like this in Leyawiin despite the tension between the Empire and Dominion. As he turned away from the corpse, his eyes suddenly fell upon something familiar. On the ground was a necklace— a ruby necklace —the same necklace that Ma’zhar had contemplated buying from Dralos Aryn. He wondered if Dralos Aryn did it, or perhaps someone Dralos had sold the necklace too. However, he could not recall the Dunmer attempting to woo anyone else into buying his jewelry. 

As all eyes were on the Altmer, Ma’zhar quietly swiped the necklace from the ground and hid it in his pocket. Ma’zhar left the room as quietly as he could and walked over to Dralos’s room. He found the Dunmer hunched over towards a corner, frantically moving and trying to do something Ma’zhar could not make out. The Khajiit curiously entered the room, causing Dralos to jump and turn to him suddenly. The look on Dralos’s face was terror as he cried out, “It wasn’t me! I swear! I don’t know where this came from!”

Ma’zhar was confused, at first, until he laid eyes on a bloody dagger on the floor behind Dralos’s feet. The Khajiit did not know what to do; he thought about screaming, running for Ysola, but he did neither. The frightened voice, the look of anguish on the previously calm, collected Dunmer seemed too genuine. Ma’zhar believed him. Ma’zhar did not want to, but he did.

Dralos was sweating and panting, but quickly settled as Ma’zhar did not make a move or sound. Ma’zhar instead reached in his pocket and pulled out the ruby necklace. “Look,” Ma’zhar said, “Ma’zhar found this in the Altmer’s room.”

“That’s mine.” Dralos seemed confused as he stepped forward and took the necklace from Ma’zhar. He and Ma’zhar were about the same height, and Dralos’s watery eyes met Ma’zhar’s curious ones. “It wasn’t me, I swear.”

“Ma’zhar believes you. But the others may not,” Ma’zhar said quietly. Although it seemed as though everyone was still in the Altmer’s room, he had an odd feeling that someone could hear them— and was listening.

“You’ve got to help me! Please!” Dralos said in a hushed, yet urgent tone.

“Ma’zhar thinks you should leave as soon as possible,” the Khajiit advised.

“You’re right. You’re right,” the Dunmer seemed to calm slightly, pulling a pillow from his bed and covering the dagger with it. 

Dralos grabbed his rucksack and small chest and began to leave the room when Vanna— having been cloaked by magic —suddenly materialized in Dralos’s room and spoke bitterly with her teeth clenched, “So it was you, you bastard!” 

“No! It wasn’t! It wasn’t!” Dralos suddenly shouted in defense, and soon everyone had gathered in front of Dralos’s room.

“Then what is this!? A damned coincidence!?” Vanna yelled as she quickly threw her arm out towards the pillow hiding the dagger and caused it to burst into ashes, revealing the supposed murder weapon to everyone. 

A gasp could be heard from some of the other patrons after the revelation. “Please! You have to believe me! It wasn’t me!” Dralos pleaded to the crowd outside of the room, but only a few moments later, Vanna held out her hand towards Dralos and caused his body to slam into the ground with a loud thud. Dralos cried in pain and struggled to get back to his feet, but it seemed Vanna was keeping him held down.

“Vanna! Don’t do it!” Tolmik pushed his way through the small crowd and into the room as he shouted to his wife. 

“He’s a murderer! He deserves to die!” Vanna growled as her outstretched arm began to shake, causing Dralos to begin spasming painfully on the floor. 

Tolmik shoved Ma’zhar out of the way— causing the small Khajiit to topple over —and grabbed his wife’s hand. Vanna and Tolmik stared at each other for a while. No words. Just direct eye contact. All the while, the Dunmer shivered and struggled, still bound to the floor by some unseeable force. Eventually, tears began to stream down Vanna’s cheeks and fall to the floor. Vanna sighed and dropped her arm, causing the Dunmer on the ground to sigh in relief and stop his pained squirms. 

Ma’zhar had stayed on the ground for the whole scene, only slowly lifting himself up as Tolmik hugged Vanna. He looked over at Dralos, who groaned lowly as he rolled himself onto his back— looking still too weak to properly pick himself up.

Tolmik slowly let go of his wife and turned to Dralos, “Did you do it?” 

“No… I didn’t,” the Dunmer responded shakily. 

“Hm.” Tolmik crossed his arms. “Get out of here.”

Dralos struggled as he tried to get on his hands and knees; Ma’zhar could not take the woeful sight. Ma’zhar stepped over to Dralos and helped him to his feet— much to the disgust of Vanna who watched but was kept at a safe distance by Tolmik.

“Thank you, friend…” Dralos sighed as Ma’zhar had to help him up, shaking like an elderly elf on his feet.

Ysola helped gather Dralos’s items as they led him to the door. Eventually, Dralos gained his normal strength back. Dralos stepped up to the door, hesitating slightly as the storm could still be heard raging outside. The Dunmer reached for the door handle and struggled to open it. Strong winds must have been blowing towards the door, making it difficult to open for the small Elf.

“Let me try,” Ysola walked up to the door and grabbed the door handle next. 

She tried opening the door normally— it would not budge. 

She then tried using a bit of strength— nothing. 

More strength— nothing. 

All of her strength— the door finally began to open.

The sight outside was not pretty. The rain, thunder, and lightning raged on, but that was the least of the troubles. Dreamlake Inn was situated on a hill, a fact that Ma’zhar had not realized when they got there. There were dips on both sides of the hill, and both of the small valleys were filled with water— raging water —as if the storm had formed two rapids surrounding the inn. 

Although it involved them getting soaked by the storm, Tolmik and Vanna stepped out of the inn to see the situation themselves. When they came back in, they began discussing the Dunmer’s fate. 

“Send him out,” Vanna said to Tolmik. “He’s a murderer. Who cares if he drowns out there or not?”

“We can’t do that, love,” her husband argued. “We can’t send him out there. Look, we’ll tie him up and hold him in that extra room in the basement ‘till it’s safe to let him go.” 

“No!” Vanna growled, “Our daughter stays down there!”

“He’ll be tied up. He won’t do any harm,” Tolmik tried to reason with her.

Vanna buried her face into her hands and groaned in frustration. “Fine. Fine.”

“Good… Come on, Elf.” Tolmik took the arm of Dralos and began dragging him towards the basement.

Dralos did not fight, but he did beg, “Please! I’m telling you it wasn’t me!” However, he was soon taken downstairs and his cries were heard no more.

Vanna shut the hatch and also left to the basement, leaving the seven remaining patrons to themselves.


	7. Chapter 7

“Honey, I think we should stay. I don’t want to go out there in that,” the woman of the couple said as she stood next to her partner. It seemed to be a great danger to try to cross the makeshift rapids the storm created. 

“Alright, Elayne. We’ll stay for a little while longer,” her lover responded. “I think the storm will pass over eventually.”

“Thank you, Peryn!” Elayne said happily as she gave him a quick kiss, before the two of them left to return their things to their room. 

“I think we could make it,” Ysola told Ma’zhar dismissively. 

“Is Ysola sure?” Ma’zhar asked.

“Maybe. I don’t know. This place… I don’t like it.” Ysola crossed her arms. 

“Ma’zhar does not either, but Ma’zhar also does not want to drown.” Ma’zhar lightly rubbed his currently dry fur, imagining it being soaked like yesterday. 

“Maybe we’ll stay for a little longer. I don’t think the storm can get any worse.” Ysola shrugged. 

Another day passed slowly, Tolmik and Vanna eventually moved the Altmer’s corpse to the basement, but not much else happened for a while. However, as nightfall approached, Tolmik and Vanna called for the attention of all of their patrons. 

“Everybody,” Tolmik announced, “There is a decision that must be made.”Ma’zhar did not like the sound of this. Somehow, he knew this would be about Dralos. “My wife has proposed some sorta… makeshift justice,” Tolmik said in a reserved tone as his wife glared at him.

“It isn’t makeshift justice,” she scolded with bitter contempt in her voice. “If we took him to Whiterun, they’d do the same thing!”

“What are you talking about?” the inquisitive Menello asked, slowly reaching for his journal and opening it up.

“Vanna believes that we should execute the Dark Elf,” Tolmik sighed, his words elicited gasps from a few of the patrons.

“No!” Ma’zhar suddenly interjected. Everyone’s gaze soon fell on Ma’zhar, causing his ears to fold back in humiliation.

“He’s right,” Ysola spoke up, much to Ma’zhar’s relief. “We don’t even know if it was the Elf who did it.”

Vanna became visibly frustrated as she grumbled and rubbed her temples. “We have evidence,” she growled, “He tried hiding the murder weapon! You all saw it!”

Ysola crossed her arms as she tried to reason with Vanna. “I know, I saw it. It just doesn’t seem right for us to decide his fate.”

“I think she’s right,” Menello said as he jotted in his journal, “I’ve seen many investigations, and it generally doesn’t end well for those who try to carry out their own justice.”

Vanna sighed before taking a seat at the inn’s bar. “You don’t understand…” Vanna’s voice had suddenly shifted from combative to dreary solemness. “This place, this building, is my home. My family, my young daughter, lives here. Imagine yourself back in your own home with your own family. Would you contently house a murderer? Especially when that murder took place in your own home, after you graciously invited them in and sheltered them from the harsh world outside? Not only do I feel betrayed, I feel vulnerable, fooled, cheated, whatever you can think of.”

Tolmik tried to interfere. “Vanna, please…”

“No!” Vanna interrupted with a sudden shout. “I can’t believe you of all people are against me in this,” she narrowed her eyes at her husband as she spoke to him in an scolding voice. Tolmik groaned and buried his hands in his face as Vanna continued, “Our daughter lives here. And she’s living with a murderer!”

“She’s not in any danger. We have him securely confined,” Tolmik insisted as he rubbed his face; his voice was now showing frustration. 

“He could get out! You never know!” Vanna argued.

“Vanna, listen!” Tolmik growled, “This is becoming nothing but another argument! This was supposed to be a discussion with everybody!”

Vanna inhaled slowly and exhaled slowly. “Okay,” she uttered faintly. “I don’t…” her voice became unsteady, “I don’t want to do this anymore…” She turned away from everyone as her breathing grew heavy and erratic. She quickly stood up and retreated to the basement. 

Tolmik massaged his bare head as he watched her walk away. “I’m, uh, sorry.” Tolmik gave the patrons a brief smile which quickly faded to a grim expression as he turned away. He soon walked into the basement, leaving the room in the awkward situation. 

A bright flash and loud crack of thunder followed Tolmik’s departure. Ma’zhar sighed and looked up at Ysola, who just gave him a shrug. Everyone retired to their rooms for the night, but they did not remain there for long. 

Only a few moments after Ma’zhar and Ysola left to their rooms, there was a knock at the door, followed by Tolmik’s voice, “Hello? You two aren’t asleep yet, right?”

Ma’zhar and Ysola shot each other quick glances before Ysola opened the door and answered, “Yes?”

“Ah, good! Me and my wife are sorry for what’s been going on lately. So, we decided to make everyone a banquet!” Tolmik smiled at the two of them.

Tolmik stepped away from the door and behind him— somehow in the span of only a minute or two —the main room of the inn was transformed into a banquet room. The size and shape of the room did not change, but the furniture had been completely swapped out. Instead of the many small, shabby wooden tables, a large, elegant table became the dining area. The simple candles and torches that previously lit the room were replaced by gold candelabras and a grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The previously barren walls were decorated with a plethora of paintings of landscapes. The sight was not the only captivating sense to behold, as the scent was unlike anything Ma’zhar had ever smelled before. The most overwhelming aroma was a meaty scent, but the Khajiit’s keen nose picked up a flood of other scents.

There were eleven seats surrounding the table; Vanna had taken her seat at the far left of the table, and the couple of Peryn and Elayne were sitting on the far right. Ysola and Ma’zhar took their seats at the middle of the table as Menello, the old Nord, and the hooded man sat on the other side. Tolmik was the last to sit down opposite from his wife. Ma’zhar noticed— eerily enough —that there were two seats left, where Dralos and the Altmer would have sat.

“Please! Everyone!” Tolmik exclaimed enthusiastically, “Eat your fill!” He was the first to begin eating, grabbing large portions of food and filling his plate with them.

Ysola followed his example, and so did the rest. Ma’zhar was the last to act, however, as he scanned his many choices on the table. There were rolls, vegetables, fruit, fish; an assortment of meats and drinks laid out across the table. Ma’zhar grabbed a few things and set them on his plate before beginning to eat.

“This is good! Isn’t it?!” Ysola said to Ma’zhar with her mouth full. He nodded as he chewed on his fish— a favorite of his. 

“You all have to try Vanna’s special stuffed meat surprise!” Tolmik proclaimed before taking a large bite out of the meat dish. Everyone followed his suggestion and made satisfied noises at the taste. Ma’zhar himself was quite fond of the taste as well. 

“I don’t suppose we could get the recipe for it?” Elayne joked.

“It is an old family recipe,” Vanna chuckled, “but maybe I could pass it on to a fellow Breton.” She jested and elicited mutual laughter from most at the table. Vanna’s composure was nothing like earlier in the night, and any feeling of tension or awkwardness had also faded from the inn. The night proceeded as normal, and everyone retired to their rooms once again. At the time, Ma’zhar had forgotten all about the sudden, almost instant, arrangement of the dinner; instead, he could only think about his aching stomach. 

Ma’zhar and Ysola now flopped onto the bed together, much more comfortable than the night before. “Ysola,” Ma’zhar said as the two of them laid in the darkness, “Ma’zhar has something to admit.”

“Yeah?” Ysola yawned.

“Ma’zhar does not think that the Dark Elf committed the murder…” he uttered.

“Oh yeah?” Ysola said quizzically. “I don’t know why he’d do it really. He didn’t seem like the kinda Elf to do it.”

“Yeah…”

“But if it wasn’t him, then who?” Ysola asked.

“Ma’zhar does not know…” The Khajiit paused to think for a few moments. “Maybe that man in the hood?”

“It seems too…” Ysola paused. “Too cliche?” She did not seem very confident with her word choice.

Ma’zhar nodded. “Ma’zhar will listen closely tonight and make sure we are safe.”

Ysola let out a noise of approval before yawning again, “Goodnight, Ma’zhar.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the time of posting this, I recently finished writing the entire story. I just wanted to let any readers know that the quality and length of writing definitely improves as the story goes on. I wrote this over the course of a year (with large breaks in between) so there will be obvious improvements in quality.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated!

Ma’zhar slowly opened his eyes. The room was still dark. Ysola was still snoring. And the storm was still raging. Ma’zhar tried to clear his throat quietly, but it was hardly of any use. The Khajiit slid out of bed; his cushiony paws hit the floor without a noise. He needed to find a drink, any drink, to quench his thirst.

Ma’zhar rubbed his eyes as he made his way to the door, but did not open it. There were light footsteps on the other side of the door. They were either the steps of someone light, or someone trying to be quiet. Ma’zhar glance at the bed, wondering if he should disturb the sleeping Nord. However, the steps faded out of Ma’zhar’s earshot. He pressed one of his lengthy, feline ears up against the door— no steps. He sighed, deciding that his thirst was too great and that he really did need a drink. Ma’zhar opened the door, just enough to poke his head out, and quickly looked around. 

He saw two bodies outside. One was Analise, seemingly looking around for something on the floor; the small girl was meekly illuminated by a small candle she was holding. The second body was on the opposite side of the room. It was the cloaked man; he was kneeling with something in his hands. Ma’zhar had to narrow his gaze to make out what the man was holding, but he soon realized it was a weapon! A crossbow aimed directly at the little girl!

“Little girl! Look out!” Ma’zhar clamored suddenly, garnering the attention of the attacker and his would-be victim. 

“Huh?” Analise flinched and let out a high-pitched squeak; it was the first time Ma’zhar had ever heard her voice. 

A moment later, however, there was a loud clap and Analise let out a fearful squeal. It happened almost instantly, but Ma’zhar saw the arrow fly by Analise’s face and just miss her. 

The mysterious attacker made no noise; he dropped the crossbow and reached under his cloak for something else. Analise dropped her candle as she fell into a fetal position. Ma’zhar knew he had to be fast. As the man began to pull something from his cloak, Ma’zhar dashed over to Analise, scooped up the girl quickly, and barged into the nearest room. Analise stayed in her curled up position as Ma’zhar accidentally dropped her while rushing into the room. The Khajiit quickly shut the door before calling out, “Somebody help! He’s trying to kill us!”

“No! Shh!” Analise tried to quiet Ma’zhar, but she was too late. Ma’zhar began to hear rummaging outside of the room. There was some shouting, sounds of weapons banging, before it all fell quiet in only a matter of moments. 

Things were quiet for only a second though; the next thing that could be heard was Vanna frantically screaming, “What have you done with my daughter!?” A few more moments passed before Vanna bursted into the room that Ma’zhar and Analise were in, yelling loudly, “How dare you try to hurt my daughter!?”

“Mother! No!” Analise attempted to shout, but it was no use. Vanna held her luminous hand out towards Ma’zhar and forcibly bound him to the floor. 

Ma’zhar cried out involuntarily. He tried to get up, but each movement sent an excruciating, stinging sensation throughout his body. “I will not let you hurt my daughter!” Vanna cried out as her arm shook and Ma’zhar’s agony heightened; the pain was no longer stinging, but now a sharp stabbing pain. 

It was not long before Ysola rushed into the room— weapon in hand. “Ma’zhar!” he clamored as she saw him writhing on the ground. She quickly move her glare to Vanna. “Let him go!” she demanded.

“You’re with him too!? Then you deserve the same as him!” Vanna shouted as she held out her other arm to Ysola. The large Nord did not go down as easily as Ma’zhar; her weapon fell out of her hand and she dropped to one knee. She was trembling, but Vanna’s magic was not strong enough to completely disable her. Ysola soon got up to her feet and slowly made her way towards Vanna. 

Vanna’s eyes widened as Ysola approached her. Vanna backed up against the wall as Ysola inched closer. “Stay away from me, you beast!” she yelled, but Ysola did not stop. Eventually, Vanna was forced to relieve Ma’zhar of her grip and focus both hands on Ysola, but Ysola was only immobilized for a moment. Ysola soon towered over Vanna, pulling her fist back to strike at Vanna until Tolmik entered the room and yelled, “Stop!”

Tolmik’s shout garnered Ysola’s attention, giving Vanna enough time to slip away and join her husband. Vanna finally released Ysola from her magical grip, causing Ysola to suddenly drop to her hands and knees and pant with fatigue. Ma’zhar was just barely getting over the painful aftershock as he watched Ysola fall; he crawled over to her and tried to comfort her with a hug.

“Analise! Get over here!” Vanna instructed her daughter, who slowly made her way next to her parents. “Where is the other one?” Vanna asked Tolmik.

“We got him tied up. Some of the others have him under control,” Tolmik responded, his weapon in hand and pointed at Ysola and Ma’zhar. “I can’t believe all of you would do something like this.” Tolmik directed his attention to Ysola and Ma’zhar on the ground. 

“Ma’zhar did not do anything! He saved the girl! That man was trying to kill her!” Ma’zhar attempted to plea.

“Analise?” Tolmik looked down at the girl who was standing next to him. She did not respond, instead she looked down at her feet.

Vanna shook her head and growled, “Damn it! I will not forgive them for trying to kill my daughter! We need to kill them! They deserve to die!”

“Vanna! Calm down!” Tolmik shouted in his booming voice. “Now,” he began to say with everyone quiet, “Restrain them, Vanna. So we can tie them up.”

Vanna began to breathe heavily and angrily, “Why don’t we just kill them now?”

“Vanna,” Tolmik growled sternly. 

Vanna sighed and held out her hands towards Ysola and Ma’zhar, causing them both to collapse in their already weakened states. Ma’zhar could not endure the intense pain or pressure any longer; he tried to grip onto Ysola one last time, but his vision slowly faded to black.


	9. Chapter 9

“Wake up… Please,” Ma’zhar heard a faint voice say. “Please. Wake up,” the voice continued. 

Ma’zhar opened his eyes slowly. Ma’zhar’s vision was blurry and he attempted to bring his hands up to wipe his eyes, but he could not move his arms at all. Ma’zhar began to panic; he began to squirm and struggle, but his wrists and ankles did not move— and his feet were not even touching the floor. 

“Please calm down. You’re okay.” Ma’zhar now recognized the voice; it was Analise’s small, dainty voice. Ma’zhar took a deep breath, and ceased his squirming. He blinked a few times until his vision was clear. Standing in front of him was Analise, she was much shorter than before due to Ma’zhar being suspended up against a wall. Ma’zhar quickly scanned the rest of the room. To his right was Ysola and the man who tried to kill Analise, and to his left was Dralos Aryn. Dralos, however, appeared immensely pale for a Dark Elf. Ma’zhar wanted to ask what was wrong with Dralos, before realizing that he was gagged and could not speak. 

“Good. Now that you’re all awake. I need to… explain to you what’s going on.” Analise held her hands behind her back and twisted anxiously. “My mother and father are vampires…”

“Mmf!?” Ma’zhar heard Ysola let out a stunned clamor, while Ma’zhar himself was equally surprised. 

Analise continued to wiggle uncomfortably as her quiet voice shook, “I am too.” She looked down before snapping her head back up quickly and pleading, “But I’m not like them! I don’t want to kill people! I hate trapping them here!” Analise sighed and cleared her throat before continuing, “I’m going to uncover your mouths now. Please, don’t scream. Or they’ll kill all of you. You promise not to scream?”

Ma’zhar looked at the other two suspended like him; eventually, they both nodded, and Ma’zhar followed suit. Analise, unable to reach their mouths— especially Ysola’s —with her limited height, grabbed a chair and placed it in front of Ma’zhar. She climbed the chair and pulled the rope that was gagging Ma’zhar out of his mouth. Ma’zhar breathed heavily, but did not say a word. Analise repeated the process with the two others— but Dralos was left alone, still motionless.

Ysola was the first to speak. “If your parents are vampires, are the others alright?”

“Not for much longer. This is usually about the time they end their act,” Analise spoke glumly. 

“Then let me go,” the man next to Ysola said sternly. “So I can get up there and do what I need to do.” 

“You have to kill them, don’t you?” Analise’s face was sullen, and her voice was even moreso. 

“Yes. You know yourself that they are evil, and that they must be stopped, or else you wouldn’t be here helping us,” the man uttered in his gruff voice. 

“You won’t kill her though, right?” Ysola quickly shot at him.

“Ugh,” the man grumbled, “No, I won’t kill her.” 

“Hm,” Ysola expressed her doubt. “Analise,” her voice quickly shifted from criticizing to exceedingly tender, “Won’t you let me and Ma’zhar down first? To make sure he doesn’t hurt you?”

“Yeah… Okay,” Analise uttered. 

Analise agreed to Ysola’s idea, much to the chagrin of the man; he quickly lashed out at them, angrily growling, “We don’t have time for this! Don’t you get it? They are dangerous! I am a vampire hunter. I came here to kill them. Let. Me. Do. My. Job.”

Analise cringed from his bitter tone, but nodded and meekly spoke, “Okay, I understand.” She sighed and seemed to gather herself quickly; she turned away from them and grabbed a bloody dagger off of a blood-spattered table. Analise used the chair again, and cut Ma’zhar free first. Ma’zhar fell a few inches to the floor, but landed on his feet. His first priority was to check on Dralos; the Khajiit walked up to Dralos and noticed something disturbing that he did not see earlier. The Elf’s neck was stained with blood, and he did not appear to be breathing. 

“Will the Elf be alright?” Ma’zhar asked Analise as she was freeing Ysola from the binds.

“If he stays like he is now, he will live as a vampire. But my mother and father don’t plan on letting him live,” Analise admitted as she cut Ysola free, who almost fell upon landing. 

Ma’zhar sighed, believing there was no way he could help Dralos. Instead, Ma’zhar stepped over to hug Ysola after she was free. “Ma’zhar was so worried…” he murmured as he nuzzled his face into Ysola’s chest. 

Ysola hugged the small Khajiit tightly, causing him to let out a slight groan. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, Ma’zhar,” Ysola said happily. 

Ma’zhar and Ysola stood next to each other as Analise hesitantly sliced the vampire hunter’s binds. This was the first time Ma’zhar had a good look at him without his cloak. The vampire hunter had dark brown hair that seemed as though it had been slicked back a few days ago, but had now become slightly unkempt and messy. Although he appeared to be not too far into his adult life, his young face was riddled with various scars; a particularly brutal scar appeared to be the result of something slicing at his eye, causing his left eyelid to be partially closed at all times. 

As soon as he was cut free and on the ground, Analise backed away and Ysola stepped forward. He sighed, “I told you I won’t hurt her.” His eyes suddenly shifted to Dralos before he began to quickly give orders, “Hurry and get me my stuff. And someone cut down that Elf. I will help him.” 

“Give me the knife. I’ll do it,” Ysola told Analise before taking the dagger from her and beginning to free Dralos. 

Analise looked at Ma’zhar and asked him politely, “Would you come help me?” Ma’zhar nodded and Analise led him to another room. Although the room they had been in was already dark and damp, this room was particularly moist and earthy. Ma’zhar figured that this room was not under the house, but was instead under the soil that had been exposed to an abundance of rain. However, Ma’zhar did not think of the climate of the room for long after laying eyes on a massive pile of various items ranging from weapons, armor, septims, and other miscellaneous things. As Analise began to gather the vampire hunter’s things, Ma’zhar noticed Ysola’s shield and mace, and Dralos’s chest of jewelry. He realized that this must have been where Tolmik and Vanna stored their victim’s possessions, giving him a nauseous feeling. 

At this point, Ma’zhar began to feel around his waist for his pouches— both gone. Ma’zhar began to quickly scan the pile of items, but he could not locate his own bags. Before he could continue to search, Analise interrupted him. “Could you help me carry this stuff?”

Ma’zhar gave one last look at the pile before signing and stepping over to Analise. She handed Ma’zhar some weapons— including a few daggers and the crossbow that she was almost killed with. He carried the weapons over into the next room; Dralos was now lying on the floor with Ysola at his side, and the vampire hunter was standing above him with crossed arms. “Just put those on the ground before you hurt somebody,” the vampire hunter instructed to Ma’zhar, who put the weapons down as cautiously as he could. “Bring me that,” the vampire hunter then told Analise as the small girl held his cloak in her arms.

Analise stepped over to him slowly and handed the vampire hunter the large, black cloak. He began to rummage through various pockets before pulling out a red phial. He kneeled above Dralos and nodded to Ysola; she held Dralos’s mouth open for him as he began to pour clear liquid from the phial into Dralos’s mouth. 

“What is that?” Ma’zhar asked as he watched.

“It’s a potion of cure disease. It can cure vampirism if it is administered shortly after the bite,” the vampire hunter responded as he put the bottle away and began to put his cloak on.

“That wouldn’t cure me, would it?” Analise spoke quietly.

The questioned seemed to surprise the vampire hunter, who quickly looked at the small girl. “No,” He uttered, “But there are ways I might be able to help you.”

“Please? I don’t want to hurt people to live,” Analise said shamefully.

“I’ve yet to meet a vampire asking to be cured,” the vampire hunter crossed his arms as he spoke. “Let’s focus on finishing this.”

Ma’zhar kneeled down next to the Dunmer, and tried to wake him by shaking him lightly. “Dralos?” the Khajiit said while rattling the Dark Elf.

“Here.” The vampire hunter handed Ma’zhar another red phial. “This will help. It’s a very potent healing potion.”

Ma’zhar took the phial and poured it into Dralos’s mouth. In a few moments, Dralos began coughing much to Ma’zhar’s delight as it was the first response he had gotten to the Dunmer. Dralos’s eyes slowly opened and met with Ma’zhar’s eyes. Ma’zhar smiled at the pale Dark Elf, “Is Dralos alright?”

“I don’t feel too great, but I’m glad to see you, friend,” Dralos returned the smile and spoke weakly. Suddenly, his eyes widened and his smile disappeared. “They’re vampires!” Dralos suddenly shouted, “They tried to kill me!”

“Elf! Shh!” the vampire hunter quickly shushed him. “I’m a vampire hunter, and I’m here to deal with them.”

Dralos sighed and sat up with a groan. “Alright…” He seemed calm, until he noticed Analise in the corner of the room. “She’s a vampire too...”

“I know. I have it all under control,” the vampire hunter assured him.

“Come on, Ma’zhar will help you up.” Ma’zhar gripped Dralos’s hand and slowly helped him up to his feet.

Ysola turned her gaze from Ma’zhar to the vampire hunter. “Thank you,” she uttered to him. 

The vampire hunter’s lips curled upward into a slight smile before he responded, “This is usually a thankless job.”

“Maybe that’s why you have such a bad attitude,” she teased with a smirk. “I’m Ysola.”

He rolled his eyes with a sigh before responding, “I don’t usually give out my name. In this line of work, it’s very easy to become a target.”

“I like to remember the names of those who save me,” Ysola insisted with her smile.

“Helsig,” he said in a hushed tone. 

She chuckled under her breath triumphantly. “I’m Ysola, if you didn’t know.”

“Anyways.” Helsig cleared his throat. “We need to hurry and save the others, and I have a plan.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING**
> 
> This chapter contains large amounts of gore and grotesque themes.

“Sir, there’s only one problem,” Analise uttered as she rubbed her cheek, “What if no one believes us that my parents are vampires?”

“Then they will find out,” Helsig responded.

“That might be too late,” Analise said.

“Then… What should we do?” Helsig asked.

Analise sighed. “I have an idea, but it’s not pretty.”

“Well?” Helsig crossed his arms, Ysola and Ma’zhar were now watching her intently also. 

Analise grabbed a torch and took slow steps over to one of the three doors in the basement, she placed her hand on the handle before turning back to everyone and warning, “I’d plug my nose if I were you.” Helsig rolled his eyes; Ma’zhar gave Ysola a worried look before they both covered their noses.

Analise slowly opened the door. Almost instantly, a putrid scent hit Ma’zhar that caused him to gag, with Ysola having a similar reaction. 

“Oh gods…” Helsig mumbled as he stepped into the room with Analise. Ma’zhar and Ysola eventually followed.

Ma’zhar could not have even imagined such a horrifying room; dozens of corpses, most of them rotting and festering, were strewn around the room. A few headless bodies were hanging from the ceiling like one would do with meat ready to be butchered and cooked. The true purpose of this room came quickly to Ma’zhar after he noticed a table with a corpse on it, and multiple knives and cleavers next to it. It only became worse when Ma’zhar realized that the body was the high elf’s he had met just a day prior. 

“Did they…” Ma’zhar gagged from his thought. “Did they feed us the elf?”

“I didn’t want you to have to find out,” Analise turned away from him as she spoke quietly. Only a few moments later, Ysola suddenly bent over and began to vomit. Ma’zhar looked away from Ysola, and did his best to not follow her example. Analise winced as she turned away from the vomiting Nord. “I was thinking that we take his head up with us, as proof,” Analise suggested as she walked up to the table with the high elf’s body on it. 

“It wouldn’t prove they’re vampires, but it could at least prove they’re evil,” Helsig admitted. “Get the head then, just hurry up.” Helsig took one last look around the room before leaving it. 

Ysola— finally recovering from vomiting —quickly stumbled out of the room next; Ma’zhar was going to follow, before Analise called to him, “Excuse me, Khajiit?”

Ma’zhar hesitantly stopped after hearing Analise’s sweet voice. “Yes?” he turned to her, still covering his nose.

“I hate to ask, but…” Analise paused and rubbed her hands together anxiously., “Could you help me get his head?” Ma’zhar did not want to help, but he could not decline her. Ma’zhar nodded and dragged himself over to the body as slowly as if he was trudging through waist high muck. Analise cleared her throat and pointed to one of the many knives in the high elf’s slaughtered body as she spoke shamefully, “My parents usually use that knife— the big one —to take off heads.” 

Ma’zhar reached for the knife, and attempted to dislodge it from the body. Ma’zhar cringed and shut his eyes as he finally managed to pull it free, causing a sickening sloshing sound. Ma’zhar took a deep breath— which had little effect of calming him as the thick scent of death filled his lungs —and placed the knife to the elf’s neck. Truly oblivious of how to behead anything, Ma’zhar lifted the knife and brought it down hard; unfortunately, the blade only sliced partway through the neck before it was halted by bone. 

“Ugh,” Ma’zhar groaned in disgust as he freed the knife from the corpse's neck. Ma’zhar attempted severing the head a few more times before he finally managed to dislodge it. There was a surprisingly lack of blood, but Ma’zhar figured the vampires must of drained him at some point. Ma’zhar hesitantly lifted the severed head gently by the elf’s flowing white hair and presented it to Analise. “Here.” 

“Thank you…” Analise tried to take the head, but struggled to hold it.

Ma’zhar noticed Analise’s distress, and quickly took the head back. “It’s okay. I’ll hold it for now,” he uttered.

“Thanks, again,” Analise smiled up at the Khajiit as she thanked him in her meek voice, before they both exited the horrific room.


	11. Chapter 11

“Ysola, Ma’zhar is not sure if he can do this,” the Khajiit said nervously as he held the crossbow, his grip unsteady as his body shook.

“You can do it,” Ysola assured him as they stood at the bottom of the basement stairs. “You have to.”

Ma’zhar nodded before Helsig began to speak, “There’s no time for hesitation. We’ve already taken too long. Are you all ready?” he asked. 

They all nodded, even Ma’zhar though he still trembled. Helsig nodded before slowly walking up the basement stairs. Ysola followed him first, then Analise, and finally Ma’zhar. Dralos stayed behind as he was still healing. Helsig reached the basement hatch, and slowly opened it; they were attempting to be quiet, but the hatch opened with a sickening creak that seemed louder than the constant boom of thunder outside. Helsig opened the hatch as delicately as possible, and peered over the basement opening. He sighed and dropped back down into the basement whispering, “They didn’t notice us. On the count of three, we start the plan.” 

Ma’zhar’s heart pounded as he gripped the crossbow tightly. He could tell that Analise, in front of him, was just as distressed as she panted loudly while holding the high elf’s head. 

“One. Two. Three,” Helsig counted down before suddenly rushing out of the basement and into the main room of the inn. Ysola and Analise immediately followed as Ma’zhar took his own place at the exit, holding his crossbow up as he quickly scanned for his target. 

Everyone’s eyes suddenly shot towards Helsig as he now stood armed next to an also armed Ysola, and Analise with the head. “It’s over, vampires,” Helsig proclaimed. 

The room instantly fell still and silent. Vanna’s head quickly swung towards the small group, while Tolmik walked into the room. Vanna instantly turned towards Tolmik, who looked at the three with wide eyes and an open mouth. 

“All of you! Back away from them! They’re vampires! Vicious killers! We found this down in the basement!” Helsig shouted as he motioned to the severed head in Analise’s grip, which evoked gasps and gags from the other inn patrons. 

Vanna narrowed her eyes at Helsig as she turned back towards them, speaking bitterly, “This is not how things were supposed to go, but, you’ll still be slaughtered all the same.” 

Vanna rose her glowing hand as she prepared to cast a spell, which was Ma’zhar’s cue. Ma’zhar had spent the entire time fixing his aim directly between her eyes, as he was instructed to do. Finally, Ma’zhar pulled the trigger, however, he had not accounted his aim for the movement he would make pulling the trigger; the arrow quickly launched from Ma’zhar’s hidden position, and struck Vanna in her right collarbone. 

“Gah!” Vanna cried out as the impact of the arrow sent her off of her chair and crashing to the ground. Tolmik growled and instantly charged at the group with his sword in hand, specifically towards Helsig.

“Hold him back!” Helsig stepped backwards as Ysola stepped in front of him, ready to meet Tolmik. Tolmik and Ysola both swung at each other at full strength, and their weapons collided viciously. 

As the two of them battled, Vanna stood, clenching her chest around the crossbow bolt impaling her. “You little bitch! You are not my daughter!” she shouted at Analise, who dropped the severed head and cowered. Vanna let go of her wound and raised a glowing hand, preparing to direct it at Analise. Ma’zhar suddenly attempted to reload the crossbow with the quiver of bolts he had at his waist to help Analise, but he was panicking so heavily that he struggled to reload the crossbow. 

Fortunately, the old Nord stepped up behind Vanna with his warhammer in hand. “Don’t touch her,” he shouted at the vampire. 

Vanna paused for a moment before suddenly turning and casting her spell at the old Nord, causing him to stumble backwards and groan in pain. After watching Analise quickly flee the room, Ma’zhar finished reloading the crossbow and aimed it at Vanna again. His breathing was fast and his heart pounded, making it impossible for him to have a steady aim. Eventually— as the old Nord grew weaker and weaker —Ma’zhar decided he had to fire the crossbow. The crossbow bolt struck Vanna in the lower back; Vanna’s body contorted painfully before she dropped to the ground. The old Nord had also collapsed onto the floor from Vanna’s magical assault.

Ma’zhar sighed in relief as he watched Vanna fall, and now directed his attention to Ysola and Tolmik; the two were still fighting, unable to land fatal blows on each other. Out of the corner of his eye, Ma’zhar noticed Helsig in the corner of the room, conjuring a growing ball that was blindingly bright. Ma’zhar began to reload the crossbow once more, hoping to be able to save Ysola. 

However, he was distracted by Vanna, who now had gleaming red eyes and sharp, horrific fangs as she crawled towards Ma’zhar. “You… I’ll kill you…! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” Vanna repeated frantically as she dragged herself across the ground toward Ma’zhar. The small Khajiit froze as she crawled toward him; he even accidentally dropped the crossbow and sent it tumbling down the basement stairs. 

Ma’zhar backed up against the wall as Vanna’s crawling speed drastically increased. He attempted to escape down the stairs, but Vanna was able to grab his leg and violently yank him down to the floor. Ma’zhar groaned as he landed shoulder first on the hard, wooden floor. Vanna quickly dug her sharp nails into Ma’zhar’s side and attempted to crawl on top of him. Ma’zhar shouted out in pain, and swiped at Vanna’s face with his own feline claws. Vanna cried out and released Ma’zhar in order to cover her face. 

“Everyone! Shield your eyes!” Helsig shouted out suddenly. Ma’zhar glanced over at him, but was forced to look away as the room was abruptly blanketed by blinding light. As the light covered the room, Ma’zhar could hear both Tolmik and Vanna scream, as well as a sizzling sound. A few moments later, the light faded away. As Ma’zhar opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was a pile of ash scattered in front of him; the next thing he noticed was a second pile of ash in front of Ysola.


	12. Chapter 12

“By Stendarr’s grace, it actually worked.” Helsig sighed. “That bastard Isran was right.”

Ysola put her mace down and walked over to Ma’zhar, helping him up. “Ma’zhar, you’re bleeding!” Ysola exclaimed as she pointed to blood seeping through his clothes on his torso. 

“Ma’zhar is fine. She just scratched him a little,” Ma’zhar claimed as he winced from the pain. 

“Here, drink this.” Helsig walked up to Ma’zhar and handed him a red flask. “This will stop any spread of Sanguinare Vampiris.” Ma’zhar quickly downed the foul tasting liquid, not wanting to be vampire. 

“Hey. Where’s Analise?” Ysola asked in a anxious tone.

“If she had any contact with that spell… She didn’t make it,” Helsig answered rather bluntly. 

“Oh! There she is!” Ysola proclaimed happily as she watched Analise come out from one of the rooms. 

Analise looked distraught as she sauntered towards the ashes. “So, they’re gone,” she mumbled. No one spoke, they all just watched her. “They were my only family. Is it bad if I miss them? Despite everything they did?”

Ysola opened her mouth to speak, but Helsig began to talk before her, “No, that isn’t bad at all. Everyone has their good sides. And you, we wouldn’t even be here without you, so you’ve earned it.” Ysola appeared shock at that response, but Analise smiled up at Helsig. “Now then, Analise, you should know this isn’t over yet.”

“You came here for the Storm Caller, didn’t you?” Analise asked.

Helsig nodded. “Yes. Do you know where he is?”

“You can reach him through the basement, but…” Analise paused and rubbed her hands together. “You shouldn’t go.”

“Excuse me?” Helsig asked her, “why not?”

“He’s too powerful!” Analise pleaded, “You can’t kill him on your own!” 

“I appreciate the concern, but… He’s the reason why I’m here. I have to finish this,” Helsig crossed his arms as he spoke to the little girl.

“Storm Caller? What are you talking about?” Ysola questioned them. 

Helsig looked over at Ysola as he began explaining, “Rodrin Storm-Caller is an ancient vampire. As his name might suggest, he has a distinct control over the weather. We fear that he may begin using his power to aid in the growing threat of vampires in Skyrim.”

“He created this storm that’s over us now, huh?” Ysola asked.

“He did. Now he’s extremely dangerous, so I suggest you all leave before I go to confront him,” Helsig raised his voice so that everyone in the room could hear. 

“Oh no, don’t even think you’re going down there alone,” Ysola chuckled.

“I’m serious, the Stor—” 

“You heard Analise, she said you couldn’t do this alone,” Ysola interrupted, “so I’m gonna go with you.”

“Ysola!” Ma’zhar pleaded immediately, knowing Ysola was going to say that. “Ysola heard how dangerous he is! Ysola can’t go!”

Ysola smiled down at Ma’zhar and spoke reassuringly, “Don’t you worry, I’ll be fine. I can’t leave you to get through Skyrim all on your own.” Her words were of little assurance to Ma’zhar, however. 

“I’m coming too.” The old Nord walked up to them with his warhammer in hand. “I wouldn’t feel right not pitching in.”

“Ugh,” Helsig let out a groan of frustration before submitting, “Fine, but don’t get in the way.”

“Wow, what a story…” Menello Lachan uttered to himself as he wrote furiously in his journal. 

“Analise, will you take us to the Storm Caller?” Helsig asked her. 

“If you really have to go…” Analise sighed and began to walk down the basement stairs. Helsig, Ysola, and the old Nord followed her first. Hesitantly, Ma’zhar followed too, figuring he should bring Dralos out of the basement. Finally, Menello dashed down the stairs with his quill and journal in hand. 

“We’ll just stay up here!” Elayne shouted as she and Peryn watched everyone descend to the basement. 

When they reached the basement, Analise led the group through a large door in the basement; Ma’zhar stayed behind, though Dralos was not where they had left him. “Dralos?” Ma’zhar called out.

“I’m in here, friend!” Dralos shouted back. A few moments later, the sound of dozens of items crashing to the floor could be heard. Ma’zhar walked over to the room that Dralos was in, and there was even more of a mess in the room full of times than before. “Excuse the mess, I was just making sure I gathered all of my things,” he gave a nervous laugh.

“How is Dralos feeling?” Ma’zhar asked as they both left the room together.

“I’m alright. I’m sure glad you came when you did.” Dralos sighed and rubbed his neck, where the bite wounds still were. “Hey!” Dralos exclaimed, “I think this is yours!” Dralos handed Ma’zhar a pouch full of gold.

Ma’zhar took the pouch; it felt lighter than before, but he decided not to think much of it. However, this reminded him that his other pouch was still missing. “Hey, did Dralos see another pouch that looked like this in the pile?”

“I don’t think so…” Dralos responded, but nonetheless, Ma’zhar went back into the room and searched through the plethora of items. Dralos joined him in the search, but it appeared it was nowhere to be found.

“This is not good…” Ma’zhar scratched behind his ear as he tried to think of somewhere else to look.

“You really care about your coin. I like that,” Dralos joked, before he spoke consolingly to the Khajiit, “We’ll find it. It has to be in this place somewhere, nobody’s left this building.”

Ma’zhar nodded in agreement, before dragging himself from the room. “Ma’zhar is going to check on everyone else, is Dralos coming?” 

“Hey, where did they go anyway?” Dralos asked.

“To go kill another vampire.” 

Dralos shivered and stared at the wall where he was suspended, and fed upon. “I’ll be happy if I never see another vampire in my life,” he groaned. 

“This Khajiit agrees, and This Khajiit wants nothing more than to leave this cursed place. But, Ma’zhar’s friend went to fight the vampire, and he needs to check on her,” Ma’zhar asserted as he began walking over to the door that led to the Storm Caller. 

“I’ll go, but I’m staying behind you!” Dralos said as the two friends traveled through the door. 

The pathway through the door was unlike the basement; the floor and walls were natural and made out of soil, whereas the basement was completely sealed with wooden flooring and stone walls. The path was totally dark, so Ma’zhar had to take Dralos’s hand and lead Dralos through safely using his keen night vision. Ma’zhar slowed to a stop, however, after he heard whispers coming just around the corner. Eventually, he heard Ysola’s voice— Ysola not being a very effective whisperer —and deemed it safe to continue until he reached the other group.

However, before Ma’zhar and Dralos could join them, Ysola, Helsig, and the old Nord had left Menello and Analise behind. The three warriors were stepping into a dimly lit, but large room. The roomy space only housed one item that Ma’zhar could see; a singular coffin laid flat on the ground at the opposite end of the room— Ma’zhar figured it housed the Storm Caller. 

“Get down,” Analise whispered to Ma’zhar and Dralos, who both quickly crouched behind the entrance to the room.

The four of them watched anxiously as their three companions slowly approached the coffin. They were only twenty feet from the coffin before the lid suddenly flew off! Ysola and the Nord readied their weapons, while Helsig stepped behind the two of them. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the coffin, awaiting whatever was going to reveal itself. 

“I thought I smelled the ash of my children…” a sudden voice arose from the coffin, a cold and lethargic voice. “You have impeccable timing… I was feeling famished…” Nobody else spoke, Ma’zhar watched as Ysola stood eyeing the coffin with her weapon ready. “What? Nothing heroic to spout? No declaring your righteous intentions before slaying the beast?” Still, no one made a sound as the Storm Caller spoke in a more mocking, lively tone. Ma’zhar could now see what Helsig was doing as he noticed a growing ball of light forming in Helsig’s palms. “Good. I’ve played this game too many times. I’m glad we’re cutting the theatrics.” A few moments after the Storm Caller finished speaking, a figure rose out of the coffin. The Storm Caller appeared to be a Dunmer, and a tall one at that. His overabundance of burgundy hair was braided together, and fell down to feet. His eyes slowly opened, to reveal a near mesmerizing yellow gaze. 

Almost as soon as the Storm Caller opened his eyes, Helsig shouted, “Back to Oblivion with you!” As he shouted this, he held out his ball of light and the entire room was filled with a blinding illumination. Ma’zhar covered his eyes as the light nearly reached the tunnel. A few moments later, Ma’zhar opened his eyes and searched for the Storm Caller; to his— and everyone else’s —surprise, the Storm Caller still stood tall. 

“That was a nice light show!” the Storm Caller exclaimed before he began to laugh wickedly. Everyone’s gaze turned to Helsig, who appeared frozen aside from his heavy breathing. Instead of waiting though, Helsig suddenly lifted up his crossbow and shot it at the Storm Caller. The bolt hit the vampire in the chest and caused him to flinch slightly. The Storm Caller looked down at his chest and forcefully ripped the arrow out of himself before growling, “I was going to play with you for a while, but now you die!” 

The Storm Caller quickly stretched his arm out toward Helsig, shooting out a red ray at Helsig that cause him to groan with pain and drop to a knee. Ysola immediately sprung into action, she charged at the vampire and swung her mace at him forcefully. The vampire effortlessly caught Ysola’s mace with his free hand and ripped it from her grip. The Storm Caller lifted the mace above his head and brought it down hard towards Ysola. Ysola managed to bring up her shield and block the blow, despite it sending her stumbling onto the ground. 

As the Storm Caller raised the mace again, the Old Nord charged forward and swung at the vampire’s side. The Storm Caller lowered the mace and ceased his spell from the sudden attack, instead facing the Nord and swinging the mace at his side. The mace clashed with the Nord’s iron armor, and sent the Nord to the floor. 

“They can’t do it… We have to help them!” Analise turned to the three behind her as they were all crouched. 

“How? I’m not going over there and fighting…” Dralos responded. 

“No, I know how we can help! Come on!” Analise stood up, and began quickly making her way through the tunnel back to the inn. Dralos and Menello followed while Ma’zhar hesitated, watching Ysola closely as she battled the vampire. Eventually, he managed to pry himself away and join them at the inn.


	13. Chapter 13

“Take these.” Analise handed two shovels to Menello.

“What are we doing?” Menello asked as he handed one of the shovels to Dralos, and the other to Ma’zhar.

“We’re going to give the Storm Caller some sunlight. I’ll show you when we get outside.” Analise handed a couple more shovels to Menello, and carried two herself. The group hurried up the basement stairs, and up to the inn door. The doors were already open, and sunlight poured into the room. Analise stopped and stared at the sunlight for a moment, standing just behind where the rays of light extended.

“Analise does not have to go out in the sun,” Ma’zhar said to her as he noticed her staring at the sunlight.

“No, I can do it,” Analise responded, before she stepped out into the sunlight. The other three watched her, and Ma’zhar was surprised as she showed no signs of pain at all. “Hurry!” Analise called out to them as she began to walk quickly out of the door, dragging the two shovels behind her. They followed Analise outside of the inn, and she stopped and looked around before pointing. “There are those two. Call them over here so they can help.”

At the bottom of the large hill that the inn was situated on, Elayne and Peryn stood there in front of a rushing stream that was most likely created by the constant downpour over the last few days. “Hey! You two!” Menello yelled out to them. 

“What!?” Elayne yelled back.

“Get over here! We need your help!” Menello shouted back. Elayne and Peryn both looked at each other, argued for a moment, then began heading to the group with Elayne leading them.

“Help with what?” Elayne asked as they reached the top of the hill. Analise and Menello handed Elayne and Peryn a shovel each, causing Elayne to groan, “I didn’t know we’d be doing manual labor…”

“I told you this was no good,” Peryn griped as he took his shovel. 

“Okay, listen…” Analise began as she walked over to a grassy hill just across from the inn. “We’re standing on top of where the Storm Caller is. I remember when they were building the tunnel and the Storm Caller’s room, the Storm Caller was mad that the ceiling was so thin and he was worried about it caving in,” Analise explained. “That has to mean that we won’t have to dig far to make the roof cave in, and trap the Storm Caller in sunlight. He’s so old that he’s very weak to the sun. Let’s start digging. I don’t know how much time we have.”

They began digging immediately. The marshy soil moved easily, but made a mess of the diggers; especially Elayne, who made sure everyone knew how muddy her skirt was getting. In only a few minutes, the muck beneath them began to shift around. Before anyone had a chance to react, the ground suddenly began to drop from beneath them. Peryn, Dralos, and Menello— who were in the center —fell with the collapsing ground into the room. 

“Peryn!” Elayne shouted as she watched her lover drop. 

“Dralos!” Ma’zhar shouted, equally as worried. After peering over the large, fresh hole in the ground, Ma’zhar could see that everyone appeared alright. Most importantly, Ysola was still alive, and had managed to not get buried under mud. 

“Gah!” the Storm Caller cried out as sunlight washed over him. The Dunmer dropped to his hands and knees; his body shook as his skin began to emit smoke and start charring. Up above, dark clouds began forming in the perfect position to block the sun. However, as the sunlight was slowly disappearing, Helsig stepped up to Storm Caller. Helsig grabbed the Storm Caller by his hair, and yanked his head up so that he was looking straight at Helsig. Without saying a word, Helsig held his crossbow to the Storm Caller’s face and sent a bolt straight between his eyes. The Storm Caller let out a faint grunt before his body fell limp; Helsig released his head and let him fall to the ground, eventually the clouds dissipated and the vampire burned to ashes. 

Everything fell quiet for a moment, at least until Analise suddenly seemed to faint and dropped into the hole, landing flat on her back in the pile of cushiony muck. Helsig turned to the small girl, who laid motionless. Now, smoke began to emanate from her body. Helsig shook his head and lifted Analise into his arms gently, carrying her over into the darkness of the tunnel before setting her down gently. 

Ma’zhar eyes drifted over to Ysola, who sat on the ground breathing heavily. Ma’zhar carefully hopped down into hole, landing on his feet in the mud. He ended up splashing mud on Dralos and Menello, much to their chagrin even though they were already covered in it. Ma’zhar hurried over to Ysola, and helped her to her feet. “Is Ysola okay?” Ma’zhar asked as he noticed some bruises throughout her body.

“I’m fine.” she smiled at Ma’zhar. “But I’m worried about Analise.” She turned over to Helsig and Analise at the tunnel’s entrance. Ysola walked over to the pair, with Ma’zhar following behind her. Analise still appeared immobile as Ysola asked Helsig, “Will she be alright?”

“I don’t know,” Helsig responded. “She shouldn’t have exposed herself to sunlight for such an extended period of time, especially while doing something rigorous.” Helsig paused for a moment, before continuing, “but I think she’ll be okay. Technically, she’s already dead. So, it would take a lot to end her existence.”

“Okay…” Ysola shrugged, not seeming too comforted by Helsig’s explanation.

“Mm…” Analise let out a faint sound as she stirred.

“Analise? Are you okay?” Ysola quickly kneeled down.

Analise opened her eyes, and slowly sat up before speaking weakly, “I feel really hot… But I’m okay. Did it work?”

“Yes, it worked,” Ma’zhar said.

“Good…” Analise lied her head back down on the cool, earthy floor.

“Who’s plan was it? To cave in the roof?” Helsig asked.

“It was Analise’s idea,” Ma’zhar responded. 

“I figured.” Helsig crossed his arms. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Analise stretched on the ground. 

While that exchange was going on, Ma’zhar noticed something as he was gazing around the room. In the corner of the room that Ma’zhar could not have seen earlier while in the tunnel, there was a table and a couple chairs. On the table was a pouch, and next to the pouch was a small bottle. Ma’zhar walked over to the table, hoping that this was his missing cargo. Fortunately, it was his missing pouch. He went through the pouch quickly to make sure its contents were safe, and all that was missing was one of the small bottles, which happened to be empty next to the pouch; Ma’zhar figured someone had a taste of the skooma. In any case, Ma’zhar was glad to have recovered his items as he fastened the pouch around his waist again. 

After gathering themselves together, everyone met inside of the inn to say goodbye before parting ways. Helsig agreed to take Analise to something called the Dawnguard, in order to get her vampirism cured. 

“Goodbye, Analise. Thank you for everything,” Ysola spoke sweetly to the small girl. She then glared at Helsig before warning him, “If I hear anything bad happens to her, the hunter will become the hunted.”

Helsig rolled his eyes. “I already promised that she would be fine. She did save my life too.”

“I’ll write to you.” Analise smiled back at Ysola. “And I’ll come see you when I’m normal!”

“Good, I can’t wait for that.” Ysola hugged her gently.

Meanwhile, Ma’zhar was speaking with Dralos Aryn. “Where will Dralos go now?” Ma’zhar asked.

“I’m going back to Morrowind, I think Skyrim’s given me enough excitement for now,” Dralos answered. “I hope our paths cross again, my friend.”

“Ma’zhar hopes so too.” Ma’zhar smiled at him. 

“You know, Ma’zhar, I noticed that you don’t have much jewelry yourself.” Dralos rubbed his chin, “How about I give you something to remember me by?” Dralos did not wait for Ma’zhar to respond before pulling out a gold ring and dropping it in Ma’zhar’s palm.

“Ma’zhar does not really—” 

“Nonsense, it’s on the house.” Dralos smiled. “But make sure you spread the word about Dralos Aryn’s Traveling Jewelry!” Ma’zhar thanked him, and Dralos left the inn. Ma’zhar slipped the ring on, and was suddenly reminded about the necklace for Ysola. He quickly checked his pocket, and to his relief, the gold necklace was still there.

Finally, Ysola walked over to speak to Menello Lachan. “So, was that a good enough story for you?” Ysola crossed her arms and asked with a grin. 

“Definitely!” Menello responded as he slipped all of his writing tools into his satchel, “A dragon attack, and a close encounter with a vampire? This will be the best selling edition yet! If you give me your address, I’ll send you one free of charge!”

“That sounds great.” Ysola wrote down where she lived, and gave it to Menello. They said their goodbyes, and all left the inn.


	14. Chapter 14

Finally, Ma’zhar and Ysola were back on the road to Solitude. However, they did not walk for long before there was another stop. Ma’zhar was still covered in mud, so Ysola had been searching for a spot where he could wash off. She managed to spot a waterfall running into a pond.

“Perfect!” she exclaimed as she pointed over to a waterfall across a small field. Ma’zhar followed her as she made her way to it, thankful that he would be able to clean his fur. Ysola stopped at the edge of the pond before she turned over to Ma’zhar. “I hope it will be okay if we bathe together. I don’t know Khajiit ways.”

“Ma’zhar does not mind,” he answered bashfully, not having seen any human nude before. 

“Good.” Ysola smiled at him, before beginning to shed her armor. She pulled off her underwear and dropped it to the ground before stepping into the water. Ma’zhar followed suit, undressing and then stepping into the water. He shivered, and hesitated moving deeper into the water as it felt ice cold to him. “It’s always cold at first,” Ysola giggled as she watched the Khajiit shivered, while she was already neck deep in the pond. “You just have to get in quick. It’ll stop you from freezing,” the Nord advised.

“Okay…” Ma’zhar nodded as he looked down at the water with crossed arms. After a few more moments of freezing, Ma’zhar finally leapt forward into the water. He shook violently for a few moments, but began to get adjusted to the water’s temperature. After about a minute, the water actually felt decently comfortable to Ma’zhar.

“There you go. I told you so.” Ysola smiled, before continuing, “One of these days, you should visit the hot springs in Eastmarch.”

“Hot springs sounds more to Ma’zhar’s liking.” Ma’zhar laid afloat in the water.

“I thought so. What are you doing out here in Skyrim anyways?” Ysola asked.

Ma’zhar thought for a moment before answering; he trusted Ysola, but he could not tell her the true reason why he was in Skyrim. “I’m just visiting my brother...”

“I see. So… Are you from... “ Ysola looked up at the sky as she seemed to search for words. “Uh, whatever they call it. Where Khajiits are from?”

“Elsweyr, the homeland of the Khajiit,” Ma’zhar spoke, “Ma’zhar was born in Elsweyr, but he has not lived there since he was a cub.”

“So, where do you live?” Ysola asked curiously.

“Leyawiin. In Cyrodiil,” Ma’zhar answered quickly, but immediately wondered if he should have revealed his home.

“Cyrodiil? Interesting!” Ysola’s eyes widened at the sound. “Tell me more,” Ysola pleaded.

“Um…” Ma’zhar hesitated for a moment, “Leyawiin is not always a happy place. Right now it is occupied by the Aldmeri Dominion and the Empire. Things are often tense, but there has not been any conflicts recently.”

“Sounds an awful lot like Skyrim. I was hoping things would be different in other provinces,” Ysola sighed.

“Ma’zhar does not know if every city in Cyrodiil is like this. Leyawiin is very close to the Aldmeri Dominion, so it was an easy target,” Ma’zhar tried to assure her. 

“Makes sense,” Ysola said before dipping her head under the water and popping back up. “So, Ma’zhar, what do you do for a living?”

“Uh…” Ma’zhar hesitated, having to think of his cover story, “Ma’zhar sells potions.”

“Potions? Do they have something to do with you coming to Skyrim?” Ysola chuckled.

“No… This is just a vacation,” Ma’zhar uttered. 

“You decided to come to this frozen place as a vacation?” Ysola asked,.“You don’t seem to like the cold very much.”

“This is where Ma’zhar’s brother lives so…” Ma’zhar shrugged. “What about Ysola? Where does she come from?” 

“Well, Skyrim, of course. I’m from Haafingar, but lived far from Solitude. My three brothers and I were raised by my father. We never had any money, so we just had to live off the land,” Ysola spoke much more quietly than she normally did. “That’s pretty much it,” she sighed with a glum look. 

“Ma’zhar sees…” the Khajiit assumed by her odd actions that Ysola did not want to discuss the matter.

They stayed in the water for a few more minutes before climbing out and sitting out of the water to dry off. Ysola and Ma’zhar laid next to each other in the grass, and stared up at the bright sky. “Ysola?” Ma’zhar asked, “Is Solitude still far away?”

“We’re almost halfway there,” Ysola answered, “Probably just a day or two more. Are you in some sort of rush?” Ysola chuckled. 

“No, no,” Ma’zhar answered quickly, “Skyrim is scary, but Ma’zhar is enjoying his time with Ysola.”

“Aww,” Ysola cooed. “Me too. It’s nice to have a traveling companion for once.”

“Ma’zhar is very glad he is not traveling Skyrim alone. He does not know how he would make it.”

“You can pay me back by showing me around Cyrodiil sometime.” Ysola smiled at him. 

“Ma’zhar likes the sound of that.” the Khajiit smiled back at her. He did not know if that would actually ever happen, but he hoped he would have a chance to spend more time with Ysola.

Ysola sat up slowly and reached for her clothes, “I don’t want to rush, but I want to reach Rorikstead before nightfall.” Ma’zhar got up also and began to get dressed, trying— as he had the whole time —to avoid staring at Ysola while she was undressed. The two left the pond behind and continued down the road with little incident, until they reached a fork in the road. A group of guards blocked one path, and beyond them a few giants and their mammoths could be seen. 

“What’s going on here?” Ysola asked as her and Ma’zhar walked up to the guards.

“These giants have been causing havoc from here to Rorikstead, and now they won’t leave the area. We’re here on Jarl’s orders to make sure no one tries to get past them and get themselves killed,” one of the guards responded.

“But we need to get to Rorikstead.” Ysola looked out at the giants.

“Giants never stay in one place too long. I’d head to Falkreath and wait it out there for a day,” another guard suggested. 

“I don’t know. These giants don’t look like they’re budging. I think you should take the road to Markarth and circle around,” a third guard advised.

“And have to deal with those damned crazy Reachmen?” the second guard responded. 

“Only milk drinkers like you would be worried about them,” the third guard laughed. 

While the second and third guards started to shout at each other, the first guard said to Ysola, “Whatever you plan to do, we cannot let you through this way.”

“I haven’t taken the scenic route through the Reach in a few years… Maybe we should go that way. It will be much more interesting than traveling through to Rorikstead anyways.” Ysola smiled at Ma’zhar. Ma’zhar politely nodded in agreement— not knowing the difference between either route. “I have no idea if we’ll make it to Markarth before nightfall, but we’ll figure things out.” Ysola shrugged and began walking.

After some hours of travel, occasional encounters with wolves, and many Nord tales, Ysola and Ma’zhar arrived at the Reach. The mountainous region amazed Ma’zhar; it was unlike anything he had ever seen. At the same time, the province frightened him. He could only imagine what kinds of beasts and dangers were high up in those mountains, waiting to ambush their prey from above. He stuck close to Ysola whenever they were completely enclosed by the rocky hills. Eventually, the sun began to set, and there was no shelter in sight. 

“Well, if we’re going to have to sleep out here, we should at least find some high ground,” Ysola spoke as she looked around for a moment before beginning to scale a hill. 

“Is it safe to go up there?” Ma’zhar watched her before following her.

“Sure! I’ve done it once before. Only ran into one bear,” Ysola joked as they reached the top of the hill.

“A bear? Ma’zhar does not like bears…” Ma’zhar shivered at the thought of a bear attack. 

“Don’t worry. I am an expert bear hunter.” Ysola pointed to some fur that was draped over her shoulders. “I killed this bear myself,” she said proudly. 

“Alright. Ma’zhar does not feel as bad now…” he lied. 

“Hey! I see some light on the other side of this hill. Maybe there is some shelter for us,” Ysola walked towards the other side of the hill. The ground became extremely rocky, but Ysola was determined and kept going. The shifting rocks under her caused a rockslide, sending pebbles and boulders alike plunging down the hill; luckily, Ysola fell backwards onto safe ground. However, as the rocks hit the bottom of the hill, groans of pain were heard as if people were hit and buried by the displaced rocks. “Oh no!” Ysola exclaimed and quickly headed down the hill on a safer, less rocky path. 

Ma’zhar followed her down but as they both reached the bottom— where a large pile of boulders now laid —they heard cheering behind them. When they turned to investigate the sounds of the cheering, dozens of lightly dressed, skin painted, wild looking individuals approached them.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING**
> 
> This chapter contains some (non-explicit and not detailed) nudity.

“We’ve been trying to rid ourselves of this monster for months! And you’ve finally done it!” a woman with intricate face paint cried out jubilantly as she approached Ma’zhar and Ysola. 

Ma’zhar looked at Ysola, who appeared worried before she responded, “Um… You’re welcome.”

“Oh, come strangers! Tonight, there will be a wondrous celebration in your names!” She grabbed an arm of both Ysola and Ma’zhar and began dragging them through her group. Ysola did not resist, so Ma’zhar followed suit— despite how anxious he was. “You four! Dig up the bodies and bring their heads to camp, or whatever you can find that’s left of them,” the woman ordered to some of her group. 

As the woman led Ma’zhar and Ysola blindly through the night, Ma’zhar whispered to Ysola, “Ysola, what is happening?”

Ysola whispered back, “These are the Forsworn. Don’t worry. I think we’re safe for now.”

Soon, the two were brought to a large, populated camp. Unsettlingly, nearly everyone in sight stopped and watched them as they reached the entrance. A shirtless man with a large, cervine headdress approached them and questioned the woman leading them with a scathing tone, “Helea! What is this!? Is the Silver-Blood captain dead!?”

Helea answered with a large grin, “Yes! He’s dead! These are the two that killed him! I thought they should enjoy the celebration with us!”

“What!? Who even are these two!? A Nord and a cat!?” the man asked with fury in his voice.

“They are…” Helea paused, “I don’t know who they are.” She turned to Ma’zhar and Ysola and asked in a playfully curious tone, “Who are you two?”

Ma’zhar quickly turned to Ysola, who was hesitant to respond. Finally, Ysola answered, “I’m from… Solitude. My companion and I were on orders from the Imperials to… spy on the Silver-Bloods and gather information to weaken their hold on the Reach.” 

“Huh.” Helea crossed her arms and smiled. “And here I was thinking you two were just random travelers who came along and accidentally killed the captain.”

“I’m not buying this…” the man with the headdress scoffed. 

“Lighten up, Dreyc.” Helea stepped close to him and set her hands on his chest. “You need to relax. It’s time to celebrate! Bring out the ale! The wine! The skooma!” she shouted, eliciting cheers from throughout the camp. 

“I guess some drink doesn’t sound too bad…” Ysola let out a small smile. 

“That’s the spirit!” Helea turned back to Ysola. “Follow me!” Helea and Dreyc began walking to a tent where alcohol was being distributed. 

“I think we’ll stay just for the night. What’s the worst that could happen?” Ysola began to follow the two Forsworn, and Ma’zhar began to follow her. Ma’zhar had no idea of the danger of the Forsworn, so he was not opposed to the idea of spending the night in a camp, and not out in the open. 

After many drinks, Ysola and Ma’zhar were sitting around a fire with a group of Forsworn. The entire camp was lit up with many fires and torches, and there was celebrating and dancing all around. Ysola— drunk with drinks in both hands —was telling a very exaggerated version of her adventures with Ma’zhar, “The two of us had to kill… A hundred vampires all by ourselves! Isn’t that right, Ma’zhar?!”

“Yes…” Ma’zhar nodded and spoke quietly. The Khajiit was one of the few sober ones left around the fire. 

“Anyways, let me tell you about the dragon!” Ysola continued on, causing oohs and aahs from the Forsworn audience. 

As Ysola began telling another farfetched tale, Ma’zhar heard his name being said somewhere behind him. He slowly turned and saw a group of teenage girls crowded around another fire watching him; they giggled and quickly looked away from Ma’zhar. Most of the females in the group were topless, with others wearing nothing at all. 

The Khajiit could hear their loud whispers, “He noticed us!”

“Go get him!”

“Why do I have to do it!?”

“He heard you say his name!” 

“Fine!” Eventually, one of the girls left the fire and approached Ma’zhar; she had no top on. “Hey. Um… My friends and I were wondering if you’d wanna sit with us…?” she spoke quietly, not looking the Khajiit in the eyes. 

Ma’zhar was hesitant to leave Ysola’s side, but the girls— who now all beckoned him over with their fingers —were tempting. Ysola seemed occupied with her drink and her story, so Ma’zhar decided to stand up and sneak away to the girls. 

“Thank you! I’m Meia!” the teen giggled, and walked back over to her group with her prize. 

“Sit here!” Another girl patted a space right next to her.

“Hold on! I got him so I get to sit next to him!” Meia complained. 

“Just let him sit in the middle!” a third girl suggested, who happened to be sitting in the middle. 

“Hmph!” Meia wrapped her arms around Ma’zhar’s arm and dragged him over to the middle where she sat down next to him. At first, Ma’zhar regretted his decision, but that was until the seven mostly nude women crowded around him and began to stroke his fur. 

“So, you’re a Khajiit? Just the name itself is so exotic,” a girl giggled. 

“How far away do you come from, cat?” a girl asked as she stroked Ma’zhar’s cheek. 

“Hey! Don’t be rude! He has a name!.” Meia smiled and continued, “What is your name, again?”

“Ma’zhar…” The bashful Khajiit answered quietly. 

“Ooh, did you hear his voice?” a girl whispered to another.

“I know! It’s so hot!” the girl whispered back.

“Okay, Ma’zhar… How far away are you from?” a girl asked her question again.

“Many leagues away… Back at the far reaches of Cyrodiil,” Ma’zhar explained, causing the girls to coo with excitement.

“What’s it like outside of the Reach?” Meia inched closer to Ma’zhar, until her torso was pressed against his side. 

“Cyrodiil is a lot different than the Reach. Every city is surrounded by giants walls, and have giant castles. There are not many large, rocky hills like there are here. It is a lot more green and there are not so many monsters,” Ma’zhar spoke, with all the girls’ wide eyes on him. 

Through most of the night, Ma’zhar kept the girls entertained with stories of Cyrodiil, Khajiit tales, and his few adventures in Skyrim. Eventually, the girls either left to their beds or fell asleep right in front of the fire— all besides Meia. “Hey, Ma’zhar?” she smiled at him as she had been leaning on his shoulder the whole time.

“Yes?”

“Where are you sleeping tonight?” 

Ma’zhar glanced over at Ysola, who was still moving yet seemed all but senseless from the alcohol, before responding, “Ma’zhar does not know…”

“You can sleep with me. My bedroll is big enough for the two of us…” She smiled shyly. 

“Ma’zhar would like that.” He smiled back at her, and she led him off into darkness.

The two of them approached a tent that appeared sturdy and was draped with many animal furs. It was next to a cliff— secluded from most of the other tents and with a great view of the moons. Ma’zhar smiled at the view; the moons were very special to him and all Khajiit.

However, Meia suddenly gripped Ma’zhar’s hand and took his attention away from the moons. “Ma’zhar… I have something to ask you,” she spoke quietly. 

“Yes?”

“Were you…” Meia looked at the ground before continuing, “Were you expecting to have sex with me?” she practically mumbled. 

Ma’zhar felt his stomach drop suddenly and swallowed hard before mustering up a response, “M-Ma’zhar does not know…” 

“You can be honest.” Meia let go of his hand and walked toward the cliffside. “I’ve been trying to get to you all night, and now that I have the chance… I can’t do it.” she sighed, and sounded disappointed.

“Ma’zhar does not want Meia to do anything she does not want to…” he responded, not sure how to handle this awkward situation. 

“I know… You’re really sweet, Ma’zhar.” Meia turned and smiled at him. “To be honest, I really just wanted to lose my purity because all the girls already have, besides me.” Meia shrugged. “And, trust me, it’s nothing personal against you that I don’t want to do it. It’s just… I’m not ready.” Meia looked at him with worried eyes.

“This Khajiit does not know if he is ready either.” He tried to smile reassuringly.

“Well, I’m glad we feel the same way.” Meia suddenly hugged him tightly. “You know, this doesn’t mean I still don’t want you to sleep with me,” she said as she pulled away from the hug enough to look at Ma’zhar. “I know you must be cuddly with all that fur of yours.”

“Ma’zhar likes the sound of that.” The two of them crammed inside of Meia’s bedroll; it was tight, but still warm and comfortable. 

“Goodnight, Ma’zhar,” Meia yawned and laid her head against Ma’zhar’s chest. 

Ma’zhar wrapped his arms around Meia, and laid contently. However, Ysola did cross his mind. He hoped that she would not be upset about him laying with Meia. He did not have much time to worry, as he soon drifted off into sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

“Meia!?” a shout slowly awoke Ma’zhar. He opened his eyes and yawned; it appeared to be dawn as the sky was now a bright orange color. “Meia!” Ma’zhar heard the shout again; it was closer now and slightly familiar to him. Meia— who was still in his arms —only stirred slightly in her sleep. Suddenly, the owner of the voice revealed themselves as they stepped in front of the tent. It was Dreyc— headdress and all.

“You! Get away from my daughter!” Dreyc said spitefully as he held a crude axe fashioned from sticks and stones. 

Ma’zhar could not respond before Meia suddenly responded loudly, “Dad! What are you doing!?”

“This cat is not who he seems! Get up right now!” Dreyc shouted.

“What is he talking about?” Meia asked Ma’zhar anxiously. Before Ma’zhar had a chance to speak, Dreyc angrily kicked over the tent and forcibly dragged Ma’zhar out of the bedroll by his neck. “Stop! Don’t hurt him!” Meia stood up quickly after Ma’zhar was grabbed. 

“He does not believe in our cause! He lied about his origins!” Dreyc growled and began dragging Ma’zhar back to the encampment. Ma’zhar gave little resistance, as he did not want to meet Dreyc’s axe. 

Meia stood at her destroyed camp and watched Ma’zhar be pulled away in horror. Eventually, Ma’zhar was dragged into the camp where angry Forsworn shouted and cursed at him. A few even threw rocks, causing Ma’zhar to squirm and groan as he was hit. Ma’zhar was taken into a shallow cave where he was forcibly shoved inside of a small cage. Ysola was in a cage to his right, and a skeleton housed a cage to his left. 

“Scum. We’ll be back to deal with you after hunting,” Dreyc spat as he walked away, leaving a single, snoozing guard with the two prisoners. 

“Ysola! What happened?” Ma’zhar looked at her quickly.

The Nord was quietly sitting up against the cage and holding her head as she muttered, “I think… I got too drunk and said a few things…” 

“Ma’zhar and Ysola must find a way to get out of here!” The Khajiit tried opening the door of his cage, with no luck. 

“In a second… My head hurts too much to think…” Ysola buried her face in her palms and curled up. 

Ma’zhar began to quickly look around and think of any way to escape the cage. After a few moments of thinking, Ma’zhar figured that his best plan was to attract the guard to come over and try to stab him through one of the large openings in the cage. Ma’zhar knew his plan was risky; he had no idea if the guard even had the key, or if he could kill the guard quickly enough with his dagger. Even more pressing, however, was how he could attract the guard. Ma’zhar soon realized that he had two options to get the guard to come over: skooma and gold. He supposed that gold may not be very useful to the savages that the Forsworn appeared to be, but he did know that they enjoyed skooma.

“Ysola, listen,” Ma’zhar spoke quietly, “Ma’zhar is going to get us out, alright?”

“Sure…” Ysola groaned, staying curled up. 

Ma’zhar sighed and figured that she would not be any help to him. “Guard!” Ma’zhar suddenly called out to a Forsworn sitting in a chair with his eyes closed and arms crossed. 

“Huh?” the young man opened his eyes and looked around.

“Guard! Come here!” Ma’zhar called out again.

The Forsworn guard turned to the cages and stood up. “You? What do you want?” 

“This Khajiit needs your help.” Ma’zhar tried to beckon him over.

“Oh no, I know your type. You Khajiit are shady tricksters!” the guard put his hands on his hips as he dismissed the Khajiit.

“Please,” Ma’zhar insisted, “If this Khajiit is going to die, he needs to share his skooma with someone. It is a tradition.”

“Skooma?” The guard’s interest seemed to peak. 

“Yes.” Ma’zhar smiled; his plan was working. 

“Lemme see it.” The guard approached the gate skeptically. 

“One moment.” Ma’zhar quickly reached for the pouch with the skooma in it and pulled out his last two remaining bottles of skooma. “Here.” He held the bottle of skooma just between an opening in the cage. 

“It could be poison… You drink some first.” The guard stepped closer; he was now just a few feet from the cage. 

“Alright…” Ma’zhar looked at the bottle he was holding. While he had skooma before, it was not something he consumed regularly, unlike most Khajiit. He opened the bottle and took a small sip. The taste was strong and bitter, but it left a warm feeling inside of Ma’zhar as soon as it touched his throat. 

The guard stood and watched Ma’zhar for a moment before chuckling. “I guess it is alright! Go ahead and roll that bottle over here.” 

Ma’zhar did not plan for this happening. He had to quickly think of a way to get the guard to come closer. Suddenly, a plan came to him. Ma’zhar rolled the bottle to the guard and then held up his own bottle, “A toast to this Khajiit’s final drink.” He slowly slid his hand inside of his coat to grab his dagger inconspicuously. 

“Alright, a toast.” the guard stepped within a foot of the cage and hit his skooma bottle with Ma’zhar’s. At that moment, Ma’zhar quickly took out his dagger and lodged it into the Forsworn’s throat. The guard spasmed and let out a gurgled cry before falling to the floor in front of Ma’zhar’s cage. Ma’zhar sighed with relief as his plan worked, and crouched down as he began to scour what he could of the body to look for keys. Unfortunately, Ma’zhar could not find any keys and he hopelessly sat back in his cage. 

“Ma’zhar!” the Khajiit suddenly heard his name called by Meia, who entered the cave. “Are you okay?” she asked as she approached the cages and the body. 

“Yes, Ma’zhar is fine,” he answered, not sure about what Meia would think about the dead guard.

“I’m here to get you out.” Meia held up a key. “I thought I would have to get rid of the guard, but I see you got the job done.” She quickly unlocked the cage and helped him out of it. 

“Meia does not mind that Ma’zhar killed him…?” Ma’zhar asked.

“No, he was a jerk anyways.” Meia sighed. “I’ll unlock your friend.” She stepped over to Ysola’s cage and let her out.

“Thanks,” Ysola slowly spoke as she stood, still holding her head. 

“We should hurry,” Meia insisted. “There’s a secret exit through a hidden path in here.” She walked over to a cellar door and opened it. Ysola grabbed her mace and shield from a table, and followed Meia to the cellar door. Ma’zhar followed also, but not before he stepped in a puddle of skooma from the bottle that the guard had been holding. He now had only one bottle of Tenmar Skooma left to deliver. 

However, that was the least of Ma’zhar’s worries as when he approached the cellar door, another Forsworn entered the cave. “Hey! What are you doing!?” the Forsworn shouted as he unsheathed a weapon. Before anyone could react, an arrow pierced the Forsworn’s back and he fell to the ground with a thud.

“What…?” Meia watched the scene in confusion. From inside of the cave, they could not see who the attacker might have been. “Let’s go!” Meia rushed down a ladder through the cellar door, and Ysola and Ma’zhar followed. 

The path in the cave was small and dark. Ma’zhar held Ysola’s hand as they made their way— singlefile —through the darkness. Ma’zhar tried to ignore the many bugs and rodents that infested the cave, hoping none of them would slip into his clothes or infest his fur. Even worse, Ma’zhar believed he heard someone else’s steps behind them, but he tried to believe they were just echoes. 

After walking for what seemed like an half an hour to Ma’zhar, they finally approached another ladder. They all climbed up; Ysola groaned at the sudden change in lighting as they remerged in the bright daylight behind a bush. 

“Well, that was easier than I expected…” Meia sighed and glanced around. 

Ma’zhar was going to thank her, until someone else appeared out of the hole in the ground. “I’ve saved you twice now, Khajiit! I’ve sat in the pouring rain for hours! I’ve slept outside for days!” a female Argonian in a hood shouted angrily. 

“You again?” Ysola growled as she readied her weapons. 

“Don’t get in my way again!” the Argonian held her dagger up. Ma’zhar now recognized her; it was Shei-Ja, the Argonian that he had traveled with in the carriage to Skyrim that tried to get Ma’zhar to travel with her. “Listen, Khajiit. My clan knows you’re going to Solitude. And they will capture you before you even set foot in the city!”

“You already tried to kill me! I won’t let you hurt him too!” Ysola shouted at her. 

“I didn’t try to kill you! I don’t care about you!” Shei-Ja shouted back.

“Oh, but your clan did!” Ysola shot back quickly.

“They aren’t even my clan anymore!” Shei-Ja gave a sigh of frustration.

“You sure still dress like they are!” Ysola refuted.

“I haven’t had a chance to change! I’ve been following you two for days!” Shei-Ja growled. 

As the two women bickered on, Meia asked Ma’zhar, “Do you always have girls fighting over you?” 

“No, this is the first time…” Ma’zhar responded before suddenly stepping between Ysola and Shei-Ja to get their attention. “Argonian, Ma’zhar is sorry, but he cannot go with you,” Ma’zhar tried to speak assertively. 

“I am trying to save your life, and your family. I will not let you stay on your current path,” Shei-Ja spoke firmly. 

“If he doesn’t want to go with you, then he isn’t,” Ysola bellowed pushed Ma’zhar to the side, now face to face with Shei-Ja. “This is the last time I’ll tell you to stay away before I make you stay away for good,” Ysola spoke lowly but menacingly. 

“Both of you are fools… This will not be the last time you see me…” Shei-Ja shook her head as she growled, and ran away until she disappeared in the forest. 

“I’m sure she’ll continue following us. We better keep an eye out for her…” Ysola sighed and lowered her weapons. 

“Wow, you two have more going on than I thought.” Meia smiled at Ma’zhar before hugging him and continuing, “Goodbye, Ma’zhar.”

“Goodbye?” Ma’zhar asked as they hugged, “Ma’zhar thought Meia was coming with us.”

“I would love to, but, I can’t.” Meia slowly broke the hug.

“Will Meia be okay if she goes back?” Ma’zhar asked in a concerned tone. 

“I’ll be fine. My father is the head of the camp, so I’ll probably just get a small punishment.” She chuckled and shrugged. 

“Why is Meia staying?” Ma’zhar questioned.

“This is my home. And it’s probably hard for you to understand, but I really do believe in our cause. The Nords took our home away, and we would do anything to get it back. One day though, after we take the Reach back, I hope you’ll come and visit me. Then, maybe I could leave with you.” Meia smiled widely.

“Okay, Ma’zhar will remember that.” he smiled and they hugged one last time. “Goodbye, and Ma’zhar thanks you!” Ma’zhar said as they began to walk away.

“Goodbye! Come see me again someday!” Meia shouted as the two left.


	17. Chapter 17

“You liked that girl, didn’t you?” Ysola asked; her voice softer than usual as the two traveled out of the Reach. 

“She was just nice to Ma’zhar… Like Ysola. Ysola is very nice to Ma’zhar too.” He smiled at the Nord.

“I’m glad.” Ysola gave a small smile before it turned to a straight face. “Why does that Argonian want you so much…?” she asked with a skeptical voice.

Ma’zhar knew this question would come up eventually, but his answer was not totally prepared. “Ma’zhar’s family is… somewhat rich. So, this Khajiit thinks that she wants his family’s money.” He managed to come up with some answer.

“Do you really think that they’re waiting to ambush us?”

“Ma’zhar does not know. They did it when Ma’zhar got to Skyrim, so he is not sure,” Ma’zhar answered, beginning to get worried about being ambushed. 

“If it is the same number of them as last time, we can take them,” Ysola spoke confidently. 

“Of course.” Ma’zhar nodded, imagining twice the number of assailants coming after them now. 

As the two walked on for the day, the rocky hills began to disappear and Ysola knew that the two were approaching Haafingar: the home of Solitude, and the end of their journey. Up ahead, however, the sky was dense with grey clouds; it appeared that a snowstorm was on its way. 

“Traveling in that will not be fun… We need to find some sort of shelter,” Ysola advised as she quickly scanned the area for anywhere to take shelter. 

Ma’zhar looked also, not keen to the idea of being trapped in the snow. Eventually— after light snow began to fall —Ma’zhar spotted a small indent in a large rock that may lead to a cave. The two made their way into the cave; Ma’zhar hoped that it housed no current residents. Luckily for them, the cave only had a few mice inside, which scattered as the two approached. 

“Well, this is better than nothing.” Ysola sighed as she sat down and began to make a small fire with some sticks she had, and rocks from the cave. Ma’zhar sat with her, and listened on as she continued, “You know, I’ve never ran into a snowstorm this close to the Reach. Then again, I’ve never been captured by vampires or Forsworn, so I guess this trip has been interesting, eh?”

“Ma’zhar did not expect the trip to be like this either.” He smiled as the fire slowly emerged. 

Using the fire, Ysola began to cook leeks that she pulled from her large bag, along with a bottle. “I was saving this special honey mead for when we got home, but I think this should help keep us warm.” She grinned as she opened the bottle. Ma’zhar nodded as Ysola took a swig, before offering it to Ma’zhar, “Have some, Ma’zhar. I know you don’t drink much, but it’s all I have to drink.”

“Okay. Ma’zhar thanks you.” the Khajiit smiled and took just a sip of the mead; it was deliciously sweet.

“Tomorrow, we’ll probably reach Solitude… Our traveling will be over,” Ysola spoke somberly as she held a couple leeks over the fire.

Ma’zhar sighed. He was not ready to leave Ysola. However crazy and terrifying they had been, these last few days had been the most exciting and fun days of his life. He wished he could adventure with Ysola forever. Ma’zhar set the mead down and looked at Ysola. He admired her beauty in the light of the fire. He loved how the fire shined in her green eyes, and how her hair shined from the flickering light source. Eventually, Ysola looked up to see Ma’zhar gazing at her and chuckled. “Whaddaya lookin’ at, Ma’zhar?”

“Ysola… Ma’zhar has something for you,” the Khajiit knew it was the best time to do this as he spoke. Ma’zhar reached into his pocket and pulled out the olivine necklace he had bought for Ysola, holding it out to her. “Ma’zhar bought this for you.”

Ysola’s eyes widened as she saw the necklace, and she looked at it silently for a few moments. Every single moment felt like an hour to Ma’zhar, who became increasingly worried from the shocked expression. “Ma’zhar…” Ysola’s voice suddenly became shaky as she turned her face away from him. 

“Ysola? What is wrong?” Ma’zhar asked nervously as he slowly lowered the necklace. 

He could hear her sob silently, which made him frown and anxiously tense. However, his fears were quelled when she looked up at him with tears rolling down smiling cheeks. “Ma’zhar… You didn’t have to get me anything,” she spoke shakily as she struggled not to heave. 

Ma’zhar crawled closer to Ysola and spoke happily, “There is no need to cry.” He slid the necklace over her head and around her neck. 

“Thank you…” she smiled at him with teary eyes, which Ma’zhar wiped away as he tried being as romantic as possible. 

The two stared into each other’s eyes silently for a few moments, before Ma’zhar slowly leaned in closer. Ysola giggled— causing Ma’zhar to nearly pull away out of embarrassment —and then leaned forward to kiss the Khajiit. Ma’zhar shivered as he experienced his first kiss. Ysola eventually broke the kiss gently, and they smiled at each other; Ma’zhar was particularly bashful and felt his face become hot and his stomach flutter. His heart was pounding and he struggled not to begin breathing heavily. 

Ysola recognized the Khajiit’s troubles and cupped his cheek as she spoke softly, “Ma’zhar, it’s okay to be nervous. Take a deep breath.” Ma’zhar nodded and let out a heavy sigh. “Good.” Ysola grinned and reached for the mead. “You know, mead makes kisses sweeter.” 

Throughout the night, the two drank and indulged in each other by the fire. Eventually, the two even made love, leading to them falling asleep in each other’s embrace. 

Ma’zhar woke up due to the cold chilling him. He reached for Ysola to warm him, but despite searching all around with his arms, he could not find her. He opened his eyes to see where Ysola was, and she was no longer by his side. In fact, she was not in the cave at all. Ma’zhar quickly sat up and began to get dressed. Under his coat, he discovered a note with the necklace on top of it, “Ma’zhar, I’m sorry I have to leave, but it has to be this way. This adventure has been one of the best experiences of my life. I do like you, but we can’t be together. I know that you’re carrying Skooma and I can’t have that in my life. Thank you for everything, Ma’zhar. I wish I could’ve said goodbye in person, but it would’ve been too hard. Just follow the road and you’ll be in Solitude in no time. Please don’t try to find me. It will only make things harder. Love, Ysola.”

Ma’zhar shook and began to cry as he read the letter. He had lost Ysola. He lost her over Skooma that he did not care about— at least not compared to her. He could not lose her. He knew he could find her. Ma’zhar gathered his items together and quickly darted out of the cave, running as fast as his legs would allow. He had no idea how long ago Ysola left, but he was determined to find her. The sky was blanketed by bright, white clouds as snow was gently floating down. 

He only had to run for a few minutes until he began to see a figure through the snow. He had no idea if it was Ysola, but he sprinted to it quickly. However, as he approached the person, it quickly turned out to not be Ysola and he slowed down in defeat as he got closer. Eventually, the person turned around, it was a man with dirty clothes and a thin beard. “Hello, stranger,” the man said. 

Ma’zhar did not respond with a greeting, but instead asked, “Has this one seen anyone else pass by recently?”

“Well, no, I do—”

Before the man could even finish, Ma’zhar began running again. He ran and ran, until his legs gave out. He collapsed to the hard, cold ground— sobbing hopelessly. With Ysola gone, Skyrim grew much colder, emptier, and lonely. Ma’zhar did not want to continue. He wanted to go home. He wanted to forget all about Skyrim, because all it did was remind him of Ysola. She truly was gone, and he knew it. Ma’zhar grabbed the necklace he had bought for her, and angrily threw it out into the wilderness. Right after he threw the necklace, he heard a loud growl come from behind the trees. 

The Khajiit slowly stood up and began to walk on in fear before he heard a faint, female voice say, “Help…” After that, Ma’zhar heard growls and snarls again. He assumed someone was in trouble. While Ma’zhar did not want to get involved, he could not abandon someone without at least seeing if he could help. 

Ma’zhar slowly approached the trees, and peered from behind one of them. He saw three wolves closing in on an injured, bloody woman sitting against a rock. “Help…” she called out weakly before she began to cough up blood; her eyes were barely open and it appeared that she was nearly unconscious. 

Ma’zhar sighed, knowing what he had to do as he sprang into action. “Hey!” the Khajiit suddenly jumped from behind the trees, gaining the attention of the wolves and the woman. The wolves all quickly turned and snarled at Ma’zhar, while he held up his dagger and slowly backed away. 

Behind the wolves, the woman groaned and held up her right hand before the wolves were suddenly engulfed by flames. They cried and whined, but soon they fell as they were all charred. Ma’zhar sighed as the flames disappeared and the wolves were dispatched. Ma’zhar approached the woman, who must have been some sort of mage to conjure a large flame such as that. 

“Is this one okay?” Ma’zhar asked the injured woman as he leaned down in front of her.

“Yes…” she struggled to speak, “I just… Woke up surrounded by those wolves. Thank you for distracting them.” She took a deep, pained breath before continuing, “I feel so weak. I didn’t think I’d be able to conjure those flames…”

“Ma’zhar is glad you did.” He turned and glanced at the wolves. 

The woman took a deep breath before placing her hand on her chest. Her hand admitted a golden aura, and quickly she began to look relatively healthy. Her skin went from pale to a cream color. Her eyes were no longer bloodshot. Her composure became much more relaxed. “Much better,” she sighed; even her voice was no longer weak. “But, why can’t I feel my…” she began to say before she looked down at her left arm. “Oh Gods… Oh Gods, no!” she suddenly shouted in panic. Ma’zhar quickly looked at her arm as well, and it was a gruesome sight. Her arm was completely mangled, covered in copious amounts of blood and with bone protruding from her elbow and wrist. 

The woman held her hand over the grotesque wounds, creating another golden aura. “Can she fix this?” Ma’zhar asked as he watched, unable to see much of the healing process due to the bright aura.

“I can stop the bleeding and dull the pain, but… No one can heal a wound like this…” she spoke somberly as she pulled her hand away; the wound looked the same with the exception of less blood. 

“What happened?” Ma’zhar asked her next as he quickly looked away from her arm. 

“I was just with my soldiers and then… Oh no, my soldiers!” The woman began to get up quickly, but winced in pain as she had to move her wounded arm. The woman reached in a large satchel she was carrying and pulled out a roll of bandages. “Help me wrap these around my arm, please…” Ma’zhar helped her put her arm in a sling with the bandages, helped her up, and then she quickly began to look around. She let out a terrifying gasp as she looked behind the rock she was propped up on. Ma’zhar followed her, and saw a group of a dozen soldiers strewn about on the ground— all appeared dead. 

“Oh Gods…” she rubbed her forehead as she walked up to most of the men. For every one, she placed her glowing hand at their chests, yet none of them reacted. However, she avoided some of the soldiers, ones that had different armor than the rest. “Do you see anymore bodies?” the woman asked, and Ma’zhar shook his head. “My second-in-command isn’t here… They must have captured him.” She sighed and walked back to Ma’zhar.

“Ma’zhar is sorry…” the Khajiit said, knowing how it feels to lose someone. “Will this one be alright?”

“I’ll be fine.” She crossed her arms and looked at Ma’zhar. “But what about you?”

“What?” Ma’zhar quickly asked.

“I can tell that something’s wrong. Being a healer for twenty-five years gives you some people skills.” The woman tried to smile. 

“It is a long story…” Ma’zhar truly did want to get it off his chest, but he did not want to burden the woman.

“I see.” The woman nodded. “If you ever find yourself in Solitude, come find me at Castle Dour, Praefect Cassandra Marie, so that I can properly thank you.” 

“Actually, Ma’zhar is travelling to Solitude now.”

“Oh? I suppose we can travel together? There is strength in numbers,” Cassandra offered. 

“Yes. Ma’zhar truly does not know Skyrim well, and he could use a companion.” He was glad that he would not be traveling alone. 

“Then we will travel together.” Cassandra smiled. “But we have no time to waste, I must report this to the Legion as soon as possible.” 

Through his time in Skyrim, time had not been a concern of Ma’zhar. He only now just realized that he was probably many days behind schedule for arriving in Solitude. “This Khajiit needs to hurry as well,” and with that, they were on their way. 

As the two walked away from the bloody scene, Ma’zhar stepped on something hard. He looked down and saw it was the necklace. He fought the urge to recover it, but he could not part with the last piece of Ysola he had left yet, so he picked it up.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned! We're getting into the final stretch of the story where things get interesting!

Cassandra was a standard sized woman, just a few inches taller than Ma’zhar. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her eyes were dark brown and had a reddish tinge. She wore a red robe that reached her feet that was adorn with leather padding on her shoulders and torso. She also wore a fur cape that had a blood red interior, and had a sword fastened around her waist. 

“We were investigating reports of Stormcloak sightings,” Cassandra spoke as they walked, “Due to the lack of high ranking soldiers in Skyrim, I was given a squad to command. The Gods knew I didn’t want it. I was just a healer from Cyrodiil who couldn’t hurt a skeever. Not because I didn’t want to fight, mind you, but that was just how poor I was in combat. But I was willing to heal on the battlefield, and quickly ranked up after doing it just a few times. The ranks meant nothing more to me than a new medal and a few extra septims until Legate Rikke herself came to me and told me she was giving me a squad to command,” she paused to chuckle, “It was quite a challenge at first. Nords are headstrong and some of them didn’t like taking commands from a healer that barely knew how to swing a sword. But after we got involved in a skirmish, and I saved a few of their lives, we finally figured things out.”

Ma’zhar nodded, listening closely to Cassandra’s story to try to take his mind off of Ysola while they traveled in the gentle snowfall. 

“But truly, I only got things together because of Hildar. I called him my second-in-command even though he had the same rank as the rest of the men. He just treated me with respect, and helped put the other soldiers in their place. At first, they sure were more willing to listen to a Nord warrior than a Breton healer,” she continued reminiscing, until her voice became woeful, “Those Stormcloaks… They better not be hurting him. He’s been the only friend I’ve had since I’ve been in Skyrim this past year.” 

Ma’zhar winced at how uncomfortably similar his situation was with Cassandra’s. “I’m sorry if I got you down just now. I can tell you’re having your own issues,” Cassandra turned her head towards Ma’zhar and watched the Khajiit fight tears. “I just find that talking with my patients often helps with their recovery,” she added.

Ma’zhar sighed; he thought it would be rude not to share with her after she shared so much with him. “Ma’zhar has been traveling through Skyrim with a Nord until this morning. Ma’zhar thought that he and the Nord were in love, but this morning… She left him. Left him with nothing but a note saying goodbye,” he spoke with teary eyes. Ma’zhar thought of the skooma he was carrying. He wanted nothing more than to get rid of it and never see skooma again in his life. 

“I’m so sorry…” Cassandra said with a sniffle, “I’ve had someone I loved abandon me too…” The two of them walked quietly for a few minutes, both of them wiping their faces of tears. “Maybe, you’ll see her again, and get one more chance,” Cassandra spoke up softly. 

“Ma’zhar hopes so…” the Khajiit sighed as he still had the necklace clutched in his hand. 

“Well, well, there you are,” a very familiar Argonian voice was suddenly heard off the side of the road. Ma’zhar already knew who it was, and was not in the mood to deal with her. Shei-Ja was leaning against a tree with her arms crossed until she approached them, saying, “When I saw the Nord walk by, I was worried she’d killed you or something. But here you are, and with a new companion.”

The Khajiit went wide-eyed and quickly asked, “How long ago did she pass by?” 

“That doesn’t matter, she abandoned you. Now it’s time to come with me.” Shei-Ja stopped a few feet from the two.

“Ma’zhar will not join you,” the Khajiit spoke firmly. Even though he had Cassandra with him, he still knew he had to speak for himself now. 

“You are a fool, Khajiit!” Shei-Ja hissed suddenly, “They are waiting to ambush you just up ahead! If you don’t come with me, you will both die!” 

Ma’zhar sighed and began to ponder the situation. He was ambushed earlier, so why could it not happen again, he thought. Cassandra held up her hand slowly and it glowed blue before she uttered, “She’s lying.”

“What?” Ma’zhar and Shei-Ja said in unison.

“I just used a spell to detect life that lets me see anyone’s presence and no one is there,” Cassandra answered.

“You… You probably just can’t see them! They’re masters of stealth!” Shei-Ja asserted quickly. 

“And you lie as bad as a schoolchild,” Cassandra replied swiftly. 

“I don’t have time for this!” Shei-Ja growled. “Your partner is much less threatening now! I will take you by force if I have to!” she pulled out her dagger and began to move towards Cassandra until Cassandra quickly unsheathed her sword with her uninjured hand and pointed it at the Argonian’s chest.

“I am a soldier of the Empire. Don’t take me lightly!” Cassandra shouted. 

“Your companions are always such pests, Khajiit!” Shei-Ja hissed before she quickly jerked to her side. 

The sudden movement baited Cassandra into thrusting her sword forward and missing the Argonian. Meanwhile Shei-Ja swung her leg up and kicked Cassandra’s injured, wrapped up arm. Cassandra cried out in pain and inadvertently dropped her sword. Shei-Ja then quickly lunged forward at Cassandra with her dagger ready to strike until Ma’zhar took his own dagger and plunged it into the leaping Argonian. The dagger struck Shei- Ja’s side and threw her off course, causing her to collide with Cassandra which sent them both crashing to the ground. Shei-Ja hissed as she quickly reached into her cloak and pulled out a white bottle, then downed its contents before she suddenly disappeared. 

Ma’zhar quickly looked around for her but saw nothing, until he spotted drops of blood falling to the ground. He figured that this must have been Shei-Ja, but he no longer had a weapon to attack with. Out of desperation, he suddenly swiped his claws where he believed the Argonian was. He felt his claws slice through scaly flesh before Shei-Ja suddenly appeared back into view, stumbling backwards and clutching her chest. Cassandra had gotten to her feet now, and her and Ma’zhar watched as Shei-Ja collapsed onto the ground. The Argonian inhaled sharply through her teeth as she reached for the dagger stuck in her side, before ripping it out and howling with pain. The stomach area of her robe was completely soaked with blood. She hissed as she slowly attempted to get to her feet, before collapsing onto the ground on her side. 

“You have assaulted a soldier of the Empire. That is a crime punishable by death,” Cassandra retrieved her sword as she spoke. The Argonian did not respond; she seemed too preoccupied with her wounds as she groaned and winced. 

“Is Cassandra going to kill her?” Ma’zhar watched Cassandra’s sword.

“No,” the Breton whispered, “I just say that to scare them.”

“Hm… Ma’zhar thinks it is time to go,” the Khajiit said, not wanting to watch the Argonian struggle with the pain. 

“I could save her…” Cassandra spoke quietly to Ma’zhar as she put away her sword. 

“No. She has been nothing but trouble since Ma’zhar got to Skyrim. This Khajiit just does not want to watch this anymore,” he replied. Ma’zhar did not even bother to retrieve his now bloody dagger as he and Cassandra left the bloody, beaten Argonian behind. 

“Is Cassandra hurt?” Ma’zhar asked as he watched Cassandra heal her arm once again. 

“I’ll be fine. My arm just got reaggravated,” she said as she finished healing herself. “Ah, there’s Solitude.” She pointed to a faroff piece of land that almost appeared to be floating.

Finally, Ma’zhar laid eyes on the city that he had spent the last crazy week searching for. He knew that his time in Skyrim was fading, and he was glad of it. That was until his eyes fell from the city and onto a figure in the distance— a large, familiar female figure standing in the middle of the road.


	19. Chapter 19

“Ysola…?” Ma’zhar immediately went from walking to jogging to running to the woman. As he got closer, tears filled his eyes as he realized it was Ysola. He slowed down as he came up to her. “Ysola!”

Ysola sighed. “Ma’zhar…” 

“Ysola! Look!” Ma’zhar shouted as he quickly rummaged through a pouch in his coat. After a few moments, Ma’zhar opened the last bottle of skooma he had and poured it out. “No skooma is worth losing you, Ysola,” the Khajiit asserted before dropping the bottle completely. 

“Ma’zhar…” the Khajiit could hear Ysola tearing up again. 

“Ma’zhar has no more skooma. This is what Ysola wanted, yes?” Ma’zhar panted as he spoke. 

“It was never about the skooma!” she cried out suddenly and collapsed onto her knees.

“Then… What was it about?” Ma’zhar asked as he slowly walked up to a sobbing Ysola. 

“Ysola?” Cassandra gasped as she walked up behind Ma’zhar.

“Cassandra?” Ysola glanced up at her, tears in the Nord’s eyes.

“You’re the Nord Ma’zhar told me about…?” Cassandra said in disbelief. 

“Cassandra knows Ysola?” Ma’zhar glanced at the Breton, whose eyes were wide and mouth agape. 

“Well, yes. Her husband works with the East Empire Trading Company…” Cassandra uttered.

“Husband…?” the Khajiit began to speak with a confused tone as he looked back at Ysola.

Ysola heaved heavily and ran her fingers through her hair. She stared at the ground as she admitted quietly, “I have a family… I have a husband… I have a child…”

Ma’zhar swallowed hard at the news. He felt crushed. After everything, he knew he could not have Ysola. Ma’zhar clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He was not just sorrowful, now he was bitter and full of rage. He would do anything for Ysola. He would kill for Ysola. 

“Ma’zhar, I’m sorry…” Ysola looked at the Khajiit, who was now trembling.

Ma’zhar calmed down and dropped to his knees in front of Ysola. He gave her the same look he had the previous night, wiped her tears the same way too. “Ma’zhar loves Ysola…” he uttered quietly. 

Ysola’s face scrunched up as she broke out in heavy sobs, crying, “I love you too.” 

Ma’zhar put his hands on Ysola’s shoulder and asked, “Does Ysola love her husband too…?”

Ysola shook her head and gently cupped both of Ma’zhar’s cheeks. “No… I don’t love him.” 

“Ma’zhar wants to be with Ysola forever…” he spoke quietly and pressed his forehead against hers. 

“Ysola wants to be with Ma’zhar forever, too…” she responded just as quietly and with a smile. They embraced each other for a few moments until Ysola looked at Cassandra, who was standing a few feet behind Ma’zhar. “Are you going to tell—”

“No,” Cassandra said quickly, a large smile across her face with her own eyes filling with tears. “This is beautiful. I… Wish you two the best.” Cassandra wiped a tear away. 

“Thank you…” Ysola sighed, and slowly stood up with Ma’zhar. “You’re hurt… Do you need help getting to Solitude?” she asked Cassandra.

Cassandra shook her head. “I’ll be okay from here.” Cassandra smiled at Ma’zhar. “Thank you for saving me. Twice.” 

Ysola chuckled. “He’s good at that.” 

Cassandra nodded. “Farewell, you two. Will I be seeing you in Solitude anytime soon?” 

Ysola turned to Ma’zhar, and asked somberly, “Oh… Do you need to go to Solitude today?” 

Ma’zhar looked towards the large city, unknowing of exactly what awaited him after meeting with his brother. “No… Ma’zhar does not need to go today,” the Khajiit answered. 

“Alright. I’ll see ya soon,” Ysola told Cassandra.

“Okay. Farewell.” Cassandra left the two behind as she continued on to Solitude. 

“I guess, you’ll have to stay at my house for the night,” Ysola spoke awkwardly. The sun was not setting yet, but it was slowly approaching the horizon as the light snow had stopped some time ago. Ysola continued, “ My husband can’t know about us. At least, not yet. I need to tell him at the right time.”

“Ma’zhar understands…” he let out a small huff. The Khajiit still held some hate and jealousy of her husband, and he had not even met him yet. 

Ma’zhar and Ysola walked silently, awkwardly— uncertainty still muddled Ma’zhar’s mind. Eventually, the two approached a sizable building with a small garden to the side. The city of Solitude was in clear view from the house also. “Here we are. I’ll do the talking, you just… Be yourself.” Ysola shrugged as she stepped into the house. Ma’zhar carefully followed behind her. 

“Pa?” Ma’zhar heard a young, male voice in another room as they stood in a small hallway. Suddenly, a young boy popped his head out from around a corner. “Oh, mama!” the boy exclaimed with a smile, “You’re back!”

Ysola smiled at the boy. “I am. How have you been, Blaise?”

“I’ve been alright. You were gone longer than normal, so pa was worried.” Blaise was a small child with hair slightly darker than Ysola’s. Ma’zhar felt uncomfortable looking at Ysola’s child, but he was not sure why. “Who is that?” Blaise asked as he pointed at Ma’zhar.

“This is Ma’zhar. He has been traveling with me and helped me get home safe, so be nice to him.” Ysola set down her weapons and walked further into the house. Ma’zhar followed her quietly. The house had a large living room that served as the kitchen and dining room, as well as two hallways on both sides of the living room. 

“Okay!” Blaise responded happily. 

Ysola sat down, and so did Ma’zhar. While examining the living room, Ma’zhar noticed a small cat stroll into the room. However, the cat froze suddenly as it made eye contact with Ma’zhar. As Ma’zhar gazed into the cat’s eyes— which were yellow like his own —he felt as though he should not be at Ysola’s house.

That thought was quickly broken as Ysola suddenly exclaimed, “Wuuthy!” and the cat turned its attention to the Nord. The cat pranced over to Ysola and hopped up into her lap, purring as she pet him. “This is Wuuthy! Doesn’t he look like you?” Ysola smiled as she slowly stroked the cat’s back. 

Ma’zhar had not noticed due to Wuuthy’s distracting glare, but Ma’zhar did notice that the cat shared his grey, striped fur. “Yes.” Ma’zhar smiled at Ysola, trying to avoid looking at Wuuthy even though his curiosity of the cat was heavy. 

“Blaise, will you go to the market in Solitude and get some chicken for dinner tonight,” Ysola asked the boy, who was playing with a wooden sword.

“Sure, mama!” Blaise quickly walked out of the door. 

“Okay. I guess we need to talk…” Ysola spoke wistfully. 

“Yes?” Ma’zhar looked at Ysola, still struggling not to look at Wuuthy. 

“I want to go back to Cyrodiil with you,” Ysola spoke bluntly, “But, I don’t really know anything about your home, or your family, or anything like that. Would it be possible for me to come with you?”

Ma’zhar had never thought about this part. He had no idea how his mother would react to him bringing a Nord home with him. Ma’zhar figured it would probably be okay; there were a few other Nords in Leyawiin. Besides, Ma’zhar knew from his brother that his father was not a Khajiit, so it was not so bad for him to love a non-Khajiit. “Ma’zhar is sure everything will be fine.” Before Ysola could speak again, Ma’zhar quickly added, “But Ma’zhar is not sure how long after he sees his brother when he will be going home.”

“That’s fine.” Ysola gently set her cat on the ground before walking over a window and looking out of it. “That’ll give me a chance to say goodbye.”

“Ma’zhar is curious. Why does Ysola want to leave her home…?” He watched her stare out the window, wondering if she had any doubts about leaving. 

“I guess leaving my family does make me seem like a pretty unfaithful Nord, doesn’t it? It’s complicated, so I’ll have to tell you the whole story…”


	20. Ysola

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is quite different than previous ones as it follows a first person point of view that isn't Ma'zhar. This chapter is told from Ysola's perspective, so I named the chapter after her to make that distinction.

Growing up, my family and me had very little money. I was the oldest of four kids, my three brothers that is. I was eight when my ma died giving birth to my youngest brother. Things got hard after she died. Ma brought in most of the gold; she was a dressmaker and made beautiful clothes for the women of Solitude. My pa fought in the Great War, but it was over by then and the Empire discharged him like many veterans. We had no money, so pa moved us out of Solitude and into, basically, a shack in the middle of Haafingar. He taught my brothers and me to hunt and to fight, because our family had to provide all for ourselves. 

That life was fine, for a while. But as we all got older, it got less fun to squeeze into our shack. When I was about seventeen, my pa finally managed to get a job in Solitude; he was just a janitor for the East Empire Trading Company, but it was something. One day, pa brought me to his work so I could try to get a job as a maid there so we could move off of Katla’s Farm. I guess that’s how this all started…

“Pa,” I groaned. “Can I please just try out for the Imperial Army? I want to be in armor! I don’t want to wear this dress!” I complained as I tried to pull up my dress to reveal less of my chest.

“I already got you a job here, Ysola. Besides, who knows how long the Imperials would keep you around before they toss you out!” my pa griped, as he normally did about the Legion.

“Pa, that was years ago! I’m sure they’ll—”

“We’ve talked about this, young lady!” my pa ended the conversation here. Although I didn’t like it, I respected my pa as he went through a lot for our family, and for Skyrim. 

It was just a quick stroll from Katla’s Farm to the East Empire Company Warehouse. My pa brought me to the head of the Company in Skyrim at the time, Factor Liodo, and he put me to work cleaning one of the ships in port. The work was easy enough; I swept all the decks and had to kill any stowaways on the ship— skeevers and stuff. The worst part was having to clean up someone’s vomit. I guess someone was seasick. 

After cleaning for what felt like a few hours in the lower decks of the ship, I decided to go up to the top deck to get some air. When I reached the top of the stairs to the top deck, I noticed a man with a book and quill walking onto the ship. His hair was cut short and he had a beard growing in; he also wore expensive clothes made of fine material. We both stopped moving as we made eye contact, and stared at each other for a moment. To break the tension, I said, “Hello.”

“Greetings, ma’am.” The man bowed to me. I was confused, no one had ever called me that or ever bowed to me. I thought maybe my dress made me look like some important person, but I was holding a broom and covered in dust. “Do you work for this ship?” he asked as he approached me.

“No, I work for the East Empire Company,” I answered, not liking the twinkle in his eye. 

“You work for the Company! I’ve never seen you here before.” His voice had a tinge of disbelief, but mostly happiness. 

“I’m Torvir’s daughter… I just started working here today.”

“Oh! Good ol’ Torvir,” the man said with a happy sigh while staring out into the distance. I could tell that he faked that line; he was trying far too hard at whatever he was doing. “I’m Clerk Marius Liodo. The son of Factor Liodo,” he spoke proudly. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” He bowed again.

“Me too.” His kindness was unsettling, so I found a way to leave the situation. “I probably should be getting back to work. I need to impress on my first day.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. The Red Wave will be here all week. I’m just taking inventory today to make sure none of the sailors use the ship’s supplies while it’s docked here.” Marius smiled and closed his book. 

“Still, I want to make sure the ship gets cleaned.” I tried to hint that I didn’t want to talk anymore.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re serious about your work.” Marius chuckled. “It’s past noon, perhaps you’d like to go into town and get something to eat?” 

“Ah, Marius!” Thankfully for me, Factor Liodo and my pa stepped onto the ship. “My son, I see you’ve met the new employee,” the Factor smiled as he spoke. He was quite an old man, most likely in his eighties with little hair and wrinkles covering him. It made me wonder how his son looked to be nearly forty years younger than him.

“Yes, father.” Marius directed his attention to my pa, and bowed to him before saying, “Torvir, I was just asking your daughter to lunch. I hope you have no issues with that?”

My pa— who was approaching sixty himself —looked at me as he answered, “If Ysola wants to, so be it.” 

“Ysola?” Marius smiled at me.

I sighed, looking at the three men staring at me. I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I answered graciously, “It would be my pleasure.” 

“Perfect!” Marius exclaimed, before he suddenly took my hand. I almost jerked it away instinctively, but I managed to restrain myself. “I will have her back in an hour so we can finish our duties.” 

So, the two of us had lunch together. It was nice to have such a large meal and plenty of mead, and Marius paid for all of it. I can’t say it was worth dealing with his flirting and banter, but I survived. Eventually, we got back to the Company and continued the rest of the day’s work. I met my father at the warehouse door, and as we were leaving the docks to returned home, we were stopped by Marius.

“Ysola!” he shouted as he walked quickly from behind us. We both turned to look at him, and in his hands was a small box. “I’ve heard that your family has had some financial trouble, so I wanted to give you some of my pay.”

“I can’t take this.” I was completely embarrassed as Marius attempted to give me the box. I hated accepting handouts; it made me feel like a beggar.

“Please, Ysola. You’ve more than earned this. Both for your fine work and for the time of day you gave me.”

I knew that my family could use the money, and there must have been over a hundred septims in the box. That was more money than my Pa and I would’ve made working at the Company for half a year. “Thank you, Marius.” I swallowed my pride and accepted the box. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ysola.” Marius leaned down and kissed my hand before walking away. 

Me and my pa walked home, not a single word between us. I think he knew how hard it was for me to accept the septims. We hid the box from my brothers, and me and pa only opened it after they were all asleep. Inside the box was a large pile of septims.

“Thank you, Ysola,” my pa spoke quietly. 

“Pa, please don’t—”

“No. I mean it,” he cut me off quickly. 

“You’ve taken good care of me my whole life. This is the least I could do.” I tried to muster up a smile.

“Come outside with me.” My pa stood up and walked outside. I could tell something was wrong. Despite all the hardships my pa had faced in his life, I hadn’t seen him so distressed since ma died.

“What’s the matter?” I asked as we began walking in the cool night, the moons shining down on us.

“I spoke to Liodo today. He told me that Marius wants to marry you.” My pa sighed.

“What?” I quickly responded, almost with a shout. “We met today! He doesn’t even know me!” 

“Marius is getting old, and his father knows it. He’s worried he’ll never get married and have a son.” 

Me and pa approached the water of the bay and sat down at the shore. We used to do this when I was a little girl and we lived in Solitude. I loved to watch the shimmering water rock gently at night. It had been a few minutes, and I still hadn’t responded to pa’s last words. 

“Liodo wanted me to try to convince you to marry him. He told me that he’d provide for our whole family. Give us all homes and good jobs with the Company,” my father continued. I still said nothing. “I’m not telling you to marry him. I just wanted to tell you everything.”

I still could not speak. My mind was filled with too many thoughts.

“Liodo wanted an answer tonight, but I can tell him you don’t know,” pa suggested as he stood up.

“Pa. I’ll marry him,” I uttered. It was a sudden decision, but one that I knew I had to make.

“Ysola? What?” pa answered in a worried tone. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to. You’ve done so much for me. And my brothers, I love them. I can’t stand in the way of all of us living happy lives,” I spoke lowly. I was sad. I wondered what ma would think of me. 

“Ysola, there are other ways we could—”

“No,” I said bluntly. “With the kind of money we get from the Company, the kind of money the boys make on the farm, we’d be stuck here on Katla’s farm for the rest of our days. I’m doing this.” I began to tear up. I never planned to get married, especially to a man that I barely knew. I wanted adventure, action, in my life. I did not want to be the wife of a businessman, yet I decided to marry him. It was for my family.

I had to remind myself of that as I struggled to fit into my wedding dress a few days later, surrounded by two elven women I did not know. 

“It was difficult for us to find a dress to fit a woman of… your size,” one of the high elf sisters scoffed as she fiddled around with my sleeves. 

“But nothing’s too difficult for us,” the other sister chimed in as she roughly pulled the dress up on my neck. 

The wedding day came quickly. I wasn’t nervous about it, until I heard the number of guests and the class of guests that were attending. High King Istlod himself was even attending, and that should say everything about the rest of the guests. The wedding went smoothly enough; I had to practice it multiple times before the wedding day so I had all the details committed to memory. I think it’s sad that a party celebrating love requires so many details and rituals; it doesn’t seem right to me. 

Life as a married woman wasn’t so bad. I didn’t have to work, and my family was taken care of. My life felt empty though, and I was only able to handle sitting around for a few years before I took up adventuring. Marius hated it. Me not being around meant he had to attend all of his fancy parties alone, and more importantly to him, it meant I might not come back and he might not get his damn heir. One day— about three years ago —I returned home from an adventure and that’s when things got bad. 

“I’m home!” I called out, as I normally did when I returned.

“We need to talk,” I heard him say from the living room. I set down my mace and shield in the doorway and stepped into the living room, expecting him to scold me about adventuring. “How long have we been married?” Marius asked as he stared blankly into the crackling fireplace.

“I don’t know… Eleven years?” I truly had no idea. We stopped celebrating our anniversaries after five years.

“Fourteen.”

“Okay…” I still couldn’t guess what he was getting at. 

“Fourteen years without a child.” He was still staring at the fire.

I groaned immediately. Over the course of our marriage, he had been pushing to have a child. However, I shut down his advances every time. In fact, we never had any kind of sex. I just wouldn’t do it; I didn’t love Marius at all. “Is that all?” I said dismissively before beginning to leave the room.

“Ysola!” he shouted suddenly. I couldn’t help but stop and gasp; he never yelled. “You will have my child,” he spoke lowly in a serious tone.

“What?” I was confused. He never got this angry over the matter.

“You will have my child, or else.”

“Is that a threat?” I responded sharply. “What could you possibly do to me?” I scoffed; Marius was not a fighter. 

“I’ve given your family everything.” My eyes widened as he brought up my family. “And I can take it away.” 

“You rat!” I shouted angrily. “How dare you threaten my family!?” I suddenly stomped over to him and roughly gripped his neck.

“You hurt me and I’ll send you and your family to the Castle Dour Dungeon for the rest of your days!” Marius shouted; his face grew red with fury. 

I let go of his neck and panted heatedly. “You can’t do anything. Your father won’t let you.”

“My father is on his deathbed.” he rubbed his neck. “In a couple days, the Company in Skyrim will be mine and so will my family’s fortune and power.”

I felt backed against a wall now. I wanted to kill him. I hated him with all my being, but I was powerless. 

“Now we’re going to have a child. And you’re going to stop your incessant traveling until it’s born,” he demanded.

I could tell I was extremely red from anger and frustration. I felt like my body was on fire as I shook with rage. But, despite my anger, I swallowed my pride for my family like I had done fourteen years ago. I let him have his way with me for a couple weeks, and eventually I started showing signs of pregnancy.


	21. Chapter 21

At this point in her story, Ysola could barely hold herself together. She regularly had to pause to heave and cry. At this point, Ma’zhar had his arm around her, and Wuuthy sat against her leg.

“Ysola does not have to continue…” Ma’zhar held her tight and leaned his head on her shoulder. 

“I don’t want to, but... I feel like I have to,” Ysola said with a heavy sigh. “Ma’zhar, please don’t think bad of me after I tell you this…”

“Of course.” Ma’zhar nuzzled into her neck to try to comfort her. 

“Okay… As the months went by, the baby grew. I dreaded every moment of the pregnancy. I had never wanted a kid because I knew it would tie me to Marius forever. I didn’t want a bond like that with a man I didn’t love. But still, I fought through the pain and I thought I would be able to have the baby. That was until one night, Marius and I started to speak of baby names. If I was having this baby, he or she was having a strong Nord name. But Marius wouldn’t have any of it. He wouldn’t even listen to me. All he did was write down damn Imperial names to choose from. When I tried to argue against it, he would use the same leverage as before. He would tell me that my family would suffer if I wouldn’t comply. That was the last straw. I hated Marius, and part of him was inside of me. Part of me that I was determined to get rid of…”

Ysola stopped and sobbed, burying her face into her hands. Ma’zhar squeezed her lightly, not knowing what to say. 

“So the very next day, I went to Angeline’s shop. I knew she had all sorts of potions, and poisons, so that’s where I went. I knew it was going to be risky, but I had no choice.

“‘Can I get any weak poison you have? Something that might hurt, but not kill?’ I asked Angeline. 

“She crossed her arms and responded, ‘Ysola, are you sure you want to get rid of the baby?’

“I didn’t know how she knew, but I nodded. ‘He doesn’t deserve this baby…’

“‘Aye. This happens more often than you’d think.’ Angeline gave me a small, unmarked bottle. ‘This has a special tea in it. Drink it all and return to me if it still kicks…’ 

“I hesitantly bought the bottle and left the store. I thought long and hard about what I was doing. Trust me, I did.” Ysola paused and rubbed her tears away. “But I finally drank it. And I knew the baby died that day. I felt its presence leave my body. I hated myself after that day, for a long time.

“A few days later, I told my husband something was wrong. He took me to the best healer in Solitude, Cassandra, and she told us that the baby was gone despite her trying to revive it. I underwent a very painful surgery to get the baby out, and they asked me if I wanted an autopsy. Thankfully, Marius had left some point during the surgery, and I convinced them that I didn’t want an autopsy. And… That was that.” Ysola sniffled, but had regained her composure by the end of the story. “We adopted Blaise a few months ago from Katla, so Marius has his heir.”

Ma’zhar did not know what to think. He could hardly believe the story. He felt bad for what Ysola had to go through, and he hated her husband even more now. “Ma’zhar is sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Ysola said with a smile. “I’m rarely home these days, so no one will miss me when I’m gone.”

Ma’zhar heard the front door swing open and he released his arms from around Ysola instantly. Luckily, whoever was entering could not see them yet. An average sized man with greying short hair and a modest beard stepped into the room with Blaise. “Welcome home. I ran into this little guy at the market,” he rustled Blaise’s hair as he spoke. “He told me you brought a new cat home, but I didn’t expect it to be a whole Khajiit.” Ma’zhar stared at the man, assuming that he was Marius. It was odd to him that such a small, unthreatening man could control Ysola.

“This is Ma’zhar. He was having some trouble getting to Solitude, so I brought him along.” Ysola walked over to the two, and took the bag of raw chicken meat Blaise was carrying. 

“Ah.” Marius nodded his head. “What brings you here, Ma’zhar? Are you a merchant hoping to strike it rich?”

“Just visiting family.” As Ma’zhar spoke to Marius, it was difficult to dislike him. He seemed like a standard, smooth talking Imperial, but Ma’zhar knew the kind of person he really was.

“Family? Here in Solitude? You wouldn’t be talking about Ra’vaan would you?” Marius walked over to a chair and sat down. 

Ra’vaan was Ma’zhar’s brother. He was going to answer truthfully, but something in his head nagged him to lie. “No, that name is not familiar to Ma’zhar.”

“Huh. Didn’t know there were other Khajiit in Solitude.” He shrugged and began writing in a book. 

“Blaise,” Ysola called as she put the chicken over the fire. “Can you show Ma’zhar the guest room, please?” 

“Yes, mama.” Blaise motioned for Ma’zhar to follow, and the two of them walked down a hallway. Blaise showed Ma’zhar into a decently sized room. “Here you go. This is usually Wuuthy’s room, but he can share. He doesn’t need the whole bed to himself.” Blaise smiled and kneeled down to pet the cat, who had been following them. 

“Thank you.” Ma’zhar stepped into the room and sat on the bed. It was the most comfortable bed he had felt since he left home. As he looked around the room, a painting caught his eye. It was a painting of Ysola. She appeared much younger, with her hair much longer. She was smiling next to her husband. Ma’zhar walked over to the painting and stared at it closely. For a few moments, a voice in his head told him that he was wrong for breaking up this marriage. Ma’zhar did not believe the voice. He began to realize that— whatever this voice was —it was not his own thoughts. It was almost as if someone was whispering directly into his mind.

He turned around, in an attempt to find the source of this infiltration, and all he saw was Wuuthy. The cat was staring directly at him, which gave Ma’zhar an uneasy feeling. Ma’zhar then gasped as he realized what was happening. The cat— Wuuthy —must have been an Alfiq, and must have been planting thoughts into Ma’zhar’s mind. Ma’zhar knew this was true, as suddenly the voice spoke to him, “Kada was wondering when Ma’zhar would recognize his own kin.” 

This communication was jarring to Ma’zhar, as foreign thoughts were being inserted into his mind. “Kada cannot read minds, yet. He needs Ma’zhar to speak to him,” the voice in his head added.

“Kada?” Ma’zhar said slowly to the Alfiq.

“Kada is this one’s name.”

“How does Kada know Ma’zhar?” he asked, looking into the hallway to make sure no one was listening to him speak to nothing. 

“Kada is here in Skyrim with Ra’vaan. Kada is Ma’zhar’s brother, too.” Ma’zhar nodded in understanding. “Ma’zhar needs to go to his brother. He needs to leave Ysola be.”

“Ma’zhar… loves Ysola.” 

This prompted Kada to hiss. “Ysola cannot go back to Leyawiin with Ma’zhar. His mother would not have it.” 

“She would be fine with it.” Ma’zhar frowned. “Ma’zhar’s mother used to love an elf, so Ma’zhar can love a Nord.” 

Kada sat and crossed his paws. “That is a long story. She needs to tell Ma’zhar that story when he gets back home. Alone.” 

“Ma’zhar is not leaving without Ysola,” Ma’zhar let out his own hiss after he spoke. 

“Ma’zhar is foolish. He does not understand. Marius works with Ra’vaan, and helps him sell skooma throughout Skyrim. If Ysola runs away with a Khajiit, especially if Marius finds out Ma’zhar is related to Ra’vaan, then he will expose the business and shut it down.”

“Then help Ma’zhar leave with Ysola secretly,” Ma’zhar pleaded.

Kada stood up, and jumped on the windowsill of an open window. “Kada will go to Ra’vaan, and see what he has to say. Give Kada the delivery.” 

“Mother told Ma’zhar to only give it to Ra’vaan…”

“Kada was just testing Ma’zhar.” The Alfiq then leaped out the window and ran towards Solitude.


	22. Kada

Kada quickly dashed through Solitude until he reached Ra’vaan’s house. He climbed through the window that was always cracked open just enough for him. The window led directly to Ra’vaan’s room. Ra’vaan was a large Khajiit— a Suthay-Raht to be exact. He was still larger than a normal Suthay-Raht, however, as he regularly trained with his blade. 

“Ra’vaan! This is important!” Kada sent intense thoughts into Ra’vaan’s mind as Kada rushed to Ra’vaan’s desk, where he was writing some letter. 

“What is it?” Ra’vaan set down his quill and looked at Kada. 

“Ma’zhar is alive! He is in Solitude!” 

“Is he? I guess I won’t need this anymore.” Ra’vaan smiled and crumpled up the piece of paper he had been writing on. He then threw the piece of paper into the air, causing Kada to launch a fireball at it and disintegrate the paper in midair. It was something that Kada and Ra’vaan did often, to keep Kada’s magic sharp. “Where is he? Why didn’t you bring him here?” 

“It is complicated, brother. Kada did not get the details but... Ma’zhar met Marius’s wife on his way to Solitude and now he is in love with her. He will not leave Skyrim without her.”

“Ma’zhar is in love with the Nord woman?” Ra’vaan laughed suddenly. “Wait,” Ra’vaan ceased his laughing and questioned, “Does she love him back?” 

“She wants to go back with him to Leyawiin.”

“That’s… an interesting issue.” Ra’vaan rubbed his chin, looking out of the window at the darkening sky. “Does Marius know about anything?”

“No. Kada managed to stop Ma’zhar from revealing that he was Ra’vaan’s brother.”

“Good going, Kada. Does he still have the delivery?” Ra’vaan asked next.

“Kada thinks so.” 

“Well, he’s already a week late. Let’s not bother him tonight. Tomorrow I need you to bring him here so I can talk to him.”

“Brother. Ma’zhar needs to know that he cannot bring Ysola to Leyawiin.”

“Maybe he can,” Ra’vaan shrugged and spoke nonchalantly. “She’s a strong warrior. That’s something we lack back at home. You can’t trust hiring mercenaries these days.”

Kada shook his head in disappointment. “They wouldn’t like it in Leyawiin.” 

“I will see how attached Ma’zhar is to this woman tomorrow. Go back to your post, Kada. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kada hopped out the window, and now leisurely strolled through Solitude. He was frustrated that Ra’vaan did not agree with him on Ysola, but he had to get over it. As he approached the gates of Solitude— where he would normally have to trick the guards into opening the gates with his telepathy —he noticed a band of Argonians and Nords entering the city. Kada counted fifteen in all, and more Argonians than Nords. Kada recognized one Argonian in particular, one who appeared to lead the others. It was Alin-Ei, a leader of a rival gang headed by Argonians. 

Kada watched as they walked into the Winking Skeever. He had to follow them and see why they were in the area, so he slipped through the door with the last member of their gang. 

“What do you mean you don’t have enough room for all of us?” Alin-Ei hissed at Corpulus, the owner of the inn. 

“Look, there’s fifteen of you. I’d have to fit two in each room, some would even have three!” Corpulus insisted. 

“Does this change anything?” The Argonian dropped a gigantic bag of septims on the bar, causing Corpulus’s daughter to gasp as she watched. 

“Look, I want to help you but—” 

“Maybe, this will convince you…” Kada saw Alin-Ei pull something from his pocket, but he could not see it fully. He could only guess it was some kind of weapon. 

“I’ll… Talk to the other patrons to see if I can free up some rooms. But no promises,” Corpulus answered fearfully. He shooed his daughter away and left the bar, beginning to talk to the some of the other inn customers. 

Alin-Ei took back the sack of gold and exclaimed, “Drinks for everyone! On me!” Many of the people in the inn cheered; they did not know yet that he probably had just stolen their rooms. 

Kada remained at the inn for a couple more hours. He was waiting for the rival gang to retire to their rooms to see if he could get any extra information. Eventually, the gang members went up to their rooms, while the rest of the patrons had to sleep in the main room of the inn on bedrolls and blankets. Kada walked up the stairs and waited, listening for anything that could be important. The conversations were mostly about women, alcohol and fighting. Kada knew he would not get good information this way, so he decided to take a different approach. 

Kada left the inn, and climbed up to the second floor from outside. He peered through each window until he found Alin-Ei’s room. The window was closed with a latch. Kada focused hard, using his telekinesis to unhook the latch. He gently cracked the window open with his paw, and squeezed inside. Thankfully for him, the Argonian seemed to be sleeping and undisturbed by the Khajiit. 

He quietly looked around the room, trying to find a letter or document that could help him find out what Alin-Ei was doing in Solitude. He managed to find a piece of paper hidden under Alin-Ei’s bed. He crawled under the bed to read it, “Everyone was dead at the ambush point, except the target and Has-No-Tail were missing. Their deaths were caused by a mace, except for one who also had a dagger wound. I only have two assumptions as to what may have happened. The first is that Has-No-Tail went rogue and kidnapped the target for herself, which is somewhat unlikely due to the fact that she does not wield a mace. My second assumption is that the target may have been rescued by a third party by someone wielding a mace, perhaps someone that works with the Khajiit. In any case, I believe you should take a party to Solitude and keep an eye out for him. He is the son of the head of the Khajiit. We need him. Sithis guide you.”

Kada knew he had to get this information to Ra’vaan. He crawled out from under the bed, but before he could make his escape, the Argonian sprang up from his bed. “Infiltrator!” he called out suddenly, blade in hand.

Kada hissed and suddenly sent lightning sparks at the Argonian. Alin-Ei grunted in pain but quickly sent his sword down towards the Khajiit. Kada had to stop his spell and leap to the side to avoid the blade that chopped into the floor. Suddenly, the door swung open and two more Argonians stepped into the room. Kada was trapped, but he had a plan to escape. First, he conjured flames at each of the Argonians, hoping to get some of their clothing on fire to distract them. After that, he focused as hard as he could. Soon, the small Khajiit conjured a ghostly, glowing, enormous Senche Tiger. 

The tiger roared and pounced at the two at the door, sending them crashing to the ground as it clawed at them. Kada quickly dashed around the tiger and out of the door. “Stop that cat!” Kada heard Alin-Ei shout, causing the other Nords and Argonians on the second floor to begin chasing and grabbing for Kada. Luckily, the Khajiit managed to dodge them all and quickly hurry down the stairs. 

Everyone on the bottom floor was awake now, and wondering what was going on. Kada rushed to the door, with his pursuers right behind him. When he reached the door, it was shut. He pushed the door open just slightly with his telekinesis and squeezed through. However, outside, the inn was now surrounded by Imperial guards. Fortunately, they were not there for Kada as he was able to dash away between a guard’s legs to the Solitude city gates. Before slipping out of the gates, Kada looked back one last time and saw Alin-Ei arguing with the Imperials and pointing at Kada. 

After escaping, Kada ran into the forest and waited; he wanted to see if anyone was following him. After a few minutes, no one left Solitude, so Kada figured he was safe. Kada decided to return to Marius’s house, because he did not want to risk going back through Solitude until things had settled down.


	23. Chapter 23

Ma’zhar stared up at the ceiling, restless in his lonely bed. He had not slept alone in some time, and it was not something he enjoyed anymore. It felt like an hour since everyone retired to their rooms, and he had sat in his dark room the entire time. He wished Kada would return, just so he had someone to talk to. Eventually, Ma’zhar’s eyelids became heavy. He was slowly drifting into sleep until he heard voices in another room— angry voices. 

The Khajiit quickly slipped out of his bed to check out the commotion. He snuck through the dark hallway and to the closed door of the room where the voices were coming from.

“Oh? You care about me? That's rich!” he heard Ysola shout. 

“I do care about you!” Marius shouted back. 

“That's not why you don't want me leaving, and you know it.”

“You don't understand! The Liodo has a long lineage, and I cannot let it die!” 

“All you care about is your damn lineage! You have a son! He's a great kid!” Ysola’s shouts were getting louder.

“He doesn't have Liodo blood.” 

“To Oblivion with your blood! And your family!” 

“My family gave you everything you and your family has.” 

“That was your decision. Not mine! If you want a child so bad, go pay some whore to have it with all your money!” There was a pause for a few moments.

“Obviously, I already—”

“That's all I am to you!? A damn prostitute!? You bastard!”

“Don’t you call me names!” Ma’zhar then heard a smacking noise and a gasp come from Ysola. 

Ma’zhar let out a growl. He clenched his fists. He hated hearing Ysola so upset. He could not believe Marius just struck her. His hate for Marius was growing every moment. Ma’zhar wanted to kill Marius. Ma’zhar wanted to barge in and plunge his claws right into the bastard’s throat. 

“They fight like this a lot.” Ma’zhar turned to see Blaise standing in a doorway. “It’s hard to sleep, but you get used to it.”

Ma’zhar sighed as more shouting went on in the background. “Ma’zhar is sorry.”

“It’s alright. It beats sleeping with horses.” Blaise wandered back into his room. 

Ma’zhar started to walk back to his room until the door swung open behind him. Ma’zhar watched as Ysola stormed out of her room and into Blaise’s room. Ysola saw Ma’zhar— they made brief eye contact —but she ignored him. Marius exited the room next, and growled as he saw Ma’zhar, “You think it’s fun to spy on me?! Damn cats!” 

Marius shoved Ma’zhar out of the way as he stomped into the living room for a few moments, then back into his room— slamming the door. Ma’zhar growled as he still stood against the wall. His hate for Marius reached its peak. Ma’zhar waited outside of the door for a while, listening. He listened for signs that Marius was asleep. It was not long before Ma’zhar began to hear snoring, and he knew he had his chance.

The Khajiit slowly opened the door and snuck inside. Marius was laying in bed, facing away from Ma’zhar, and snoring loudly. Ma’zhar approached Marius like a tiger approaching its prey. He was ready to leap onto him and tear out his throat. However, as soon as Ma’zhar reached his target, something was holding him back. He began to think about Ysola, and what she might think of him if he did this. He thought about Blaise, and how Blaise would be left with no one if Ysola left him too.

“Go to sleep.” Ma’zhar heard Kada’s voice in his head. Ma’zhar looked around the room, and noticed Kada sitting on the windowsill. “Ra’vaan said that Ma’zhar might be able to bring Ysola along. But Ma’zhar has to meet with him first thing in the morning. Now go. Sleep.”

Ma’zhar nodded, and snuck out of the room. His last glimpse of Kada was the Alfiq hopping out of the window. Ma’zhar returned to his room and lied on his bed. He worried about Ysola, and wondered why she did not come to him for help. He wanted to see her, but he did not want to disturb her. Instead, he stayed in bed in silence, and eventually fell asleep.

“This is your fault! Isn’t it!?” Ma’zhar was suddenly jolted awake by the sound of yelling. He squinted his eyes as sunlight from an open window hit them. He looked towards the voice and saw Marius approaching him, furiously shaking a piece of paper. “Who has her, cat!? Explain this!” Ma’zhar sat up as Marius angrily shoved the paper in his face. 

Ma’zhar took the paper and began to read it, “Hello, Khajiit, it is your Argonian friend. While you were sleeping, I decided to take your Nord out for a little walk. It seems that she drank some of my special poison and may not have much time left. If I were you, I’d bring your little healer friend and your clan to come get her. I am at Reyzjavic. I’m sure you can find someone who knows where it is. But you need to hurry.”

“Well!? Tell me what we’re dealing with so I can go find my wife!” Marius shouted as soon as Ma’zhar looked up from the paper. 

“Just one Argonian.” Ma’zhar stood up and gathered his things quickly. 

“Just one!? Ridiculous! This is your fault! I’m having you arrested as soon as I get to Solitude,” Marius continued to shout angrily. 

At this point, Ma’zhar ignored the shouting, and rushed out of the house himself. He needed help; he was going for Cassandra. He briefly thought about going for Ra’vaan, but he did not want to trouble his brother with this problem. Both he and Marius left the house, and they both hurried to Solitude. Ma’zhar did not think of this until he got to Solitude’s gates, but he had no idea where to find Cassandra. His troubles worsened after he entered the city, and saw the large plaza with people all over. 

Marius continued rushing through the city, so Ma’zhar followed behind him. Eventually, Marius and Ma’zhar approached a door with two guards standing in front of it. The guards nodded at Marius and let him by, and Ma’zhar followed close behind. 

“General Tullius!” Marius shouted as he stomped into a meeting room with a large map in the center and two people standing around it.

“Deputy Liodo,” a man with gray hair and golden armor answered.

“My wife has been abducted by criminals! I need a squad of fine soldiers to retrieve her!” Marius stopped at the table, sounding short of breath. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Deputy, but the Legion cannot spare any men. We’re launching a large campaign at the moment,” Tullius responded calmly.

“Then give me some Solitude guards! Anything!” Marius insisted, slamming his hands down on the table. 

“You may work for the Empire, Deputy, but you have no authority over the Legion.” Tullius crossed his arms. 

“Why don’t you ask Vittoria for some of your Company thugs?” the woman in the room suggested shrewdly, donning heavy Imperial armor. 

“Oh yes, my rival will surely loan me some of her men,” Marius scoffed. 

“Legate Rikke, I needed to—” Cassandra paused as she entered the room. “Ma’zhar? Deputy Liodo? What are you doing here?” 

“Ysola has been taken! By the Argonian! Ma’zhar blurted out suddenly. 

“Oh no. Do you know where she might be?” Cassandra walked over to the Khajiit. 

“Praefect Marie, did you have something to tell me?” Rikke intruded.

“Excuse me, Legate.” Cassandra turned to Rikke. “It wasn’t important.” She turned back to Ma’zhar. “Well?”

“Praefect Marie,” Tullius spoke in a serious tone, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Yes, General?” Cassandra answered anxiously. 

“You seem concerned about this situation. Perhaps you could help Deputy Liodo find his wife? If your injury will allow it,” Tullius suggested. 

“Of course, General.” Cassandra nodded.

“What? All you’re giving me is one injured soldier?” Marius griped angrily. 

“She is one of the finest women in the Legion. You are lucky her talents are being wasted on you,” Rikke shot back coldly. 

“You are dismissed, Praefect. Good luck, Deputy,” Tullius leaned on the table as he spoke.

Marius, Ma’zhar, and Cassandra left the castle. “Reyzjavic? I’ve never heard of it. But I know someone who might,” Cassandra said as she finished reading the note. The three walked back to the plaza, and Cassandra approached an old man sitting on the floor. “Hey, Eagle-Eye?”

“Huh? What do you want?” Eagle-Eye answered sharply. The man was dirty, with tattered clothes and an eye that seemed to be damaged. 

“You know Skyrim pretty well, right? Have you ever heard of Reyzjavic?” Cassandra asked.

“I don’t know…” Eagle-Eye grumbled.

“Are you sure?” Cassandra pressed on. “Word goes around that you were the best scout in the Empire.”

“Hey... What’s wrong with your arm?” Eagle-Eye stood as he changed the subject completely.

“I… Got hurt pretty bad in an ambush,” Cassandra sounded confused at first, but then her voice suddenly shifted to a sad, whimpering tone, “I might never be able to use it again.”

“Sounds like my eye…” The man frowned. “What was that place again?”

Cassandra smiled. “Reyzjavic.”

“Yeah. It’s an old tomb not far from here. I can take you,” Eagle-Eye stretched while speaking. 

“Thank you. We’ll pay you for it too,” Cassandra said happily. “We need to go right away.”

“Ma’zhar! What is going on!?” Suddenly, Ma’zhar heard Kada in his head. He looked behind him and saw the Alfiq running up to him.

Ma’zhar almost answered out loud, but he stopped himself so he would not damage Kada’s ruse as just an average housecat. Ma’zhar kneeled down and whispered, “An Argonian has taken Ysola. Ma’zhar is going to go get her.”

“The Argonians must know more than Kada thought… Ma’zhar cannot go get Ysola. Ra’vaan can handle it. Ma’zhar needs to go see him.”

“Ma’zhar does not need Ra’vaan involved. Ma’zhar has handled this Argonian before. Ma’zhar can do it again.” Ma’zhar glanced back to make sure no one was watching him. 

“What? Ma’zhar is in over his head! Kada is going to—”

“Ma’zhar. I don’t know what you’re doing but it’s time to go.” Cassandra unknowingly interrupted as the group began to walk towards the Solitude gates. Ma’zhar stood up and joined the group; he looked back and saw Kada running further into the city. Ma’zhar knew he would be seeing his Ra’vaan soon, but Ysola was his priority.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick question to any readers— Do you think that this fanfic should be rated M for Mature? It was originally rated as such, but I felt the absence of detailed sex meant that I could take it down to a T. However, as I've been reading it over, it can get quite bloody and gory at times. Let me know what you think.

The group traveled for an hour through the wilderness before they reached a large, ominous structure. There were statues of eagles surrounding a large, arch shaped entrance. They approached the doors slowly. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but be careful. These ruins are probably full of traps and undead,” Eagle-Eye warned.

“Thanks again,” Cassandra said as Eagle-Eye left the group. “This is probably a trap.” Cassandra sighed as she looked at Ma’zhar.

“Ma’zhar knows, but he cannot let that Argonian keep Ysola,” the Khajiit responded.

“She’s my wife, Khajiit! You like her, don’t you? I know you do. I could see it in your eye,” Marius shouted bitterly.

“Maybe if her husband treated her better, Ysola would like him as much as she likes Ma’zhar!” Ma’zhar hissed back. 

“Stop it!” Cassandra interjected suddenly. “We all are here for Ysola, so we’re working together,” she scolded them both. Ma’zhar and Marius both fell silent. “Good.” Cassandra unsheathed her sword and opened the doors slowly. 

The doors creaked loudly, and all three of them hesitantly stepped into the ruins. Surprisingly to Ma’zhar, the inside was warm and well-lit. They stepped into a massive, open room that was the size of a royal dining room. It was decorated with all kinds of strange statues and carvings. There were tables and benches around the room also. The ruins did not seem as threatening as Eagle-Eye had made them out to be.

“Hello. I see you’ve made it. Just in time, too. The Nord doesn’t seem to be getting any better,” Shei-Ja’s taunting voice echoed throughout the room. Ma’zhar looked around for the source of the voice, as did the others. “I’m up here.” Her voice was accompanied with a loud, shattering noise. Ma’zhar looked up and finally found Shei-Ja; she was standing up near the ceiling, on a balcony. 

“Where is Ysola!?” Ma’zhar hissed. 

“Oh, she’s up here with me. You’re welcome to join us if you can make it,” Shei-Ja spoke arrogantly, with a grin. 

“You let my wife go! If I have to get her, I’ll make sure you’re executed!” Marius shouted. 

“She’s not bound. I think she’s just having trouble moving due to the poison. I can’t tell how much time she’ll have left…” Shei-Ja sarcastically sounded woeful.

“Argonian, take Ma’zhar! Just don’t let the Nord die!” Ma’zhar shouted helplessly.

“It’s too late for that now, Khajiit! You should’ve joined me when you had the chance! You’d be back in Leyawiin by now! Probably drinking your mother’s milk like the kitten you are! But no, now you’re here, and you’ve sentenced all your friends to death!” Shei-Ja hissed and walked away from the balcony. 

Ma’zhar buried his face into his hands. He wanted to cry. Ysola was going to die, and it would be all his fault. “Ma’zhar,” Cassandra rubbed his shoulder as she called his name. “It’s not over. We can still save her. The path that goes deeper into the ruins is right there.”

“Ma’zhar cannot ask Cassandra to go. We will all die if we go further.” Ma’zhar slowly pulled his hands from his face. 

“I should’ve died yesterday, but then you came along. I’m happy to risk my life to save the one you love.” She smiled at him. Suddenly, Marius began walking towards the entrance of the ruins. “Deputy…? Where are you going?” 

“I can’t die here. I have too much to live for…” Marius said somberly before he left Reyzjavic.

“That just proves why you deserve Ysola more.” Cassandra shook her head, before walking towards a door on the opposite end of the room. “Let’s go get her.” Ma’zhar followed close behind as the two of them stepped through the door and into a much darker, colder corridor. 

It got darker the deeper the two went on. It also seemed like the corridor was getting increasingly smaller. Eventually, Cassandra had to conjure a small ball of light that floated along with her so that she could see anything. Ma’zhar and Cassandra soon entered a room. This room was eerie and silent, with a light fog shrouding the room. To make the room even worse, it was filled with coffins. 

“It looks like this is the way through…” Cassandra spoke lowly as the two approached a shut gate. The path onward was visible through it. “But it’s shut, and I don’t see a way to open it.” 

Ma’zhar looked around the room, and spotted a lever on the wall a few feet from the gate. “Ma’zhar sees a lever. Perhaps it opens the gate.” He pointed at it to show Cassandra. 

“Probably. Good eyes, Ma’zhar.” Cassandra approached the lever, and hesitantly placed her hand on it. “Now keep your guard up,” she warned, “Eagle-Eye said this place was full of traps. And this certainly could be one.” 

Cassandra pulled the lever, and nothing happened. The gate did not budge. However, a few moments later, there was a heavy thud on the other side of the dark room. Ma’zhar quickly turned towards the noise, and saw that the source of the noise was two coffin doors that fell from standing coffins. He gasped in horror as he watched something exit from each of the coffins. “Cassandra!” Ma’zhar backed up against the gate as he watched two zombielike creatures with weapons and glowing blue eyes slowly approach them. 

“What is it?! I can’t see over there!” Cassandra shouted at the Khajiit as she drew her sword. 

“Z-Zombies! With weapons!” Ma’zhar moved closer to Cassandra. 

“Zombies with weapons? Draugr…?” Cassandra questioned as she stood in front of the Khajiit. 

Eventually, the undead creatures came into the area of Cassandra’s light spell. Ma’zhar heard Cassandra take a deep breath before she lunged at one of the creatures and slashed at it. The draugr blocked her swing with its shield, and the other draugr attempted to swing its mace at Cassandra. She narrowly dodged the attack and stepped backwards from the two undead. “Ma’zhar! I’m going to need your help!” she yelled as she kept her eyes on the creatures. 

“Yes!?” Ma’zhar shouted back, hoping not to gain the attention of the creatures. 

“I’m going to throw my sword to you. You take them out when they’re disoriented!” Without warning, Cassandra tossed her sword to Ma’zhar. He watched it fly through the air, shaking with nerves before suddenly catching the weapon; it was much lighter than he imagined it would be. 

Suddenly, flames began to engulf the two undead. As the flames disappeared, Cassandra yelled, “Kill them, Ma’zhar!” The creatures were both burning, and struggling to stand as they stumbled around making grunts of pain. Ma’zhar stepped up to them and clumsily swung the sword at one creature’s neck, decapitating it in one blow. Before Ma’zhar could recover and attack the other creature, it swiped his legs and caused the Khajiit to collapse hard to the ground and drop the sword. The still flaming undead growled and groaned as it began to claw at Ma’zhar’s side. The Khajiit hissed with pain and tried to escape the creature’s attack. However, it did not take long until a sword suddenly split the undead’s head in two. Ma’zhar looked up and saw Cassandra standing above him— a worried look on her face. 

Cassandra kneeled down next to the Khajiit. “Are you okay?” she asked as she looked at the scratch wounds on his side. The creatures nails had sliced through Ma’zhar’s clothes and through his skin. 

“It stings…” Ma’zhar spoke through his teeth. 

“Don’t worry. I can fix this.” Cassandra’s hand began to glow gold as she placed it near the scratch wound. There was a brief burning sensation, but it quickly faded to a soothing warmth. In a few moments, the pain was gone completely. Cassandra helped Ma’zhar to his feet. “Well. That wasn’t ideal…” 

 

“Thank you.” Ma’zhar brushed himself off. 

“No problem. Now… Do we pull the lever again...?” Cassandra slowly approached the lever, which had reverted to its original placement. 

“There are more coffins. More undead may come out,” Ma’zhar advised. 

“Then maybe we should—” Before Cassandra could finish, there was a loud thud again. “Well, I guess we have to face them no matter what. How many are there?”

“Four this time,” Ma’zhar said as he peered through the darkness. 

“Hold this.” Cassandra handed Ma’zhar her sword again. “And stand back against the wall.” Ma’zhar nodded and backed up against the cold wall, watching Cassandra closely. Cassandra took a long breath, and her entire arm suddenly became covered in flames. She let out a loud grunt as she suddenly released a huge burst of fire at the undead. The room was illuminated by the explosion of flames as all of the creatures now fell and writhed on the ground in the flames. 

Suddenly, Ma’zhar saw Cassandra drop to her knees, seemingly in some pain. He stepped over to her. “Is Cassandra alright?” the Khajiit asked as he kneeled next to her.

“Yeah…” Cassandra panted breathlessly. “I’ve never tried that spell before… It took a lot out of me.” 

The flames slowly burned out, and none of the undead were moving. “Ma’zhar thinks they are all dead.” 

“Good. Are there any coffins left?” Cassandra asked as she got onto her feet.

“They are all empty.” Ma’zhar noticed some object sticking out of one of the open coffins. “But one of them has something inside of it.” Ma’zhar and Cassandra approached the coffin, and saw that the object was a lever— identical to the one that summoned the undead.

“This better be the right lever.” Cassandra sighed and pulled the lever. The gate slowly opened across the room, granting the two access to more of the ruins. “Are you ready to keep going?” Cassandra looked at Ma’zhar.

“We need to hurry,” Ma’zhar answered, and the two walked through the gate.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this fic is almost done! This is so exciting! Thank you so much to those of you that have given me kudos, commented, or even just took the time to read this so far!

Ma’zhar and Cassandra ran into a couple more groups of undead, but they handled them with little issue. Finally, the two approached a large room that was well-lit like the entrance of the ruins. It was not large like the entrance, but it was furnished with many tables, benches and coffins. However, at the far end of the room, a still draugr sat in a throne. This draugr had heavy armor and a large helmet with antlers. Ma’zhar hoped they would not have to face this creature. 

“Ma’zhar! Look! Stairs!” Cassandra pointed past the creature, and to stairs that lead upwards; perhaps to the next floor where Ysola was being held, Ma’zhar thought. “We’re almost there… I can see two life forces up there. They must be Ysola and the Argonian.”

“Let’s hurry.” Ma’zhar began to walk towards the stairs, but he would have to pass the draugr on the throne.

“Wait. I see a lot of life forces now. They’re all at the entrance. I guess Marius must have got—”

Before Cassandra could finish, the draugr on the throne let out a loud grunt and stood up from his throne, wielding a large battle axe. Ma’zhar was standing right next to the creature at the time, and slowly backed away from it as it stood. The draugr suddenly charged at Ma’zhar and swung his axe at the Khajiit; Ma’zhar quickly lept to the side to avoid the attack. 

Cassandra ran up to it and quickly shot flames at the draugr. Unfortunately, this powerful draugr seemed unfazed by the fire. It walked through the flames towards Cassandra and suddenly shouted, “Fus Ro Dah!” This shout created a blue wave of sheer force that shook the ground and sent Cassandra flying across the room. Cassandra hit the wall hard and then fell to the ground with a sickening thud. She lied still on the ground, and Ma’zhar hoped she was not dead.

Ma’zhar, who had been holding and using Cassandra’s sword, quickly stepped behind the draugr and stabbed the sword through its back. Ma’zhar thought he killed the creature, until it suddenly turned around and growled at him. Ma’zhar quickly backed away; he was now weaponless as the sword stayed lodged in the draugr’s back. The draugr now began to furiously swing his axe at Ma’zhar over and over. Ma’zhar dodged the swings by continually moving backwards, but soon found himself up against a wall. 

The undead tried an overhead swing, so Ma’zhar quickly dropped to the floor and scurried between its open legs. The draugr’s missed its swing and its axe slammed into the rock wall. Ma’zhar hopped up to his feet and pulled his sword out of the creature. The draugr grunted and swung its elbow back at Ma’zhar, which hit the Khajiit in the nose. Ma’zhar was staggered, but then he was elbowed in the eye which sent him down to the hard floor. The creature’s bony elbow caused Ma’zhar’s eye to twitch and sting in pain. Ma’zhar looked up and saw the draugr turn around and wind up for another swing. Ma’zhar held up his sword and desperately swung at the draugr’s legs. To his surprise, the sword sliced cleanly through both of its legs and brought the draugr down to the floor.

Ma’zhar lifted himself up quickly, not planning on getting attacked on the floor by this undead. The draugr crawled towards Ma’zhar, until the Khajiit suddenly stabbed his sword through its head. The draugr let out a final, dying groan. Ma’zhar collapsed to his knees against his sword, breathing heavily. He rubbed his sore nose, and felt blood dripping down his maw. Then he felt near his pained eye, which seemed to be swollen and dripping with either tears or blood— or both. 

Ma’zhar stood up slowly, and turned to look at Cassandra. She had rolled over onto her back, and was breathing. The Khajiit stumbled over to her and spoke sluggishly, “Is Cassandra alright?”

Cassandra opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Yeah…” She let out a groan as she sat up. “These walls are a lot harder than they look.” She began to heal her bandaged arm, which had started bleeding as the bandages were now soaked red. Cassandra stood up and frowned as she looked at Ma’zhar’s face. “Oh no. You took a little bit of a beating.” Ma’zhar nodded before Cassandra placed her hand on his face, and began to heal it. Ma’zhar shut his eyes tight; he had not realized how bright the healing aura was until just then. “That eye will need a little more attention later, but it’ll be fine for now.”

Ma’zhar and Cassandra gathered themselves, and proceeded up the stairs after Ma’zhar retrieved Cassandra’s sword. At the top of the stairs was a balcony, but it was a different one than Shei-Ja was on. They could tell this because they could see the other balcony across the large entrance room. However, they could also see a large group had gathered in the entrance room. The group was mostly made up of Khajiit, and Ma’zhar noticed Ra’vaan and Kada among them. 

“Ra’vaan!” Ma’zhar instinctively called out to his brother. After all he had gone through, Ma’zhar was happy to see someone familiar. 

“Ma’zhar!” Ra’vaan put his hands on his hips and looked up at the balcony. “It’s good to finally see you, brother!” he called out jokingly. 

“Ra’vaan, Ma’zhar is sorry! He—”

“I know everything, Ma’zhar. Don’t worry. I’m here to get her and you.” Ra’vaan cut him off. “Now I need you to come down here so—”

Now, Ra’vaan was cut off by the ruin doors opening. A group of Nords and Argonians entered the room. “Well, look who it is…” the Argonian in front said as they approached the Khajiit group with their weapons drawn. 

The Khajiit now drew their weapons as Ra’vaan responded, ”Hello, Alin-Ei. I should’ve known you’d be the one causing us trouble.”

“As much as I wish this was all a part of my plan, we’re both here because of a rogue Argonian,” Alin-Ei scoffed. “But since you’re here, it seems like a good time to get rid of you.” 

“Do your worst! We’ve done this dance before, and I always come out on top!” Ra’vaan hissed. 

At that instant, the two groups ran at each other and began fighting. Ma’zhar watched as Alin-Ei and Ra’vaan dueled. He also noticed Kada conjuring all sorts of magic to help in the fight. 

“Ma’zhar! Look at the other balcony!” Cassandra shouted. Ma’zhar looked up and saw Shei-Ja watching the fight, but he also noticed Ysola— seemingly unconscious —lain on a table.

“Ysola… Come on! She’s close!” Ma’zhar quickly left the balcony, and began to jog down another path on the second floor; Cassandra ran behind him. 

The two of them passed a couple rooms, leaving behind the draugr that inhabited them. However, the two were halted by a corridor with a trap of four axes swinging back and forth like pendulums. “We can get past these. It’s just a matter of timing…” Cassandra said as the two watched the axes. Behind them, the steps and grunts of draugr approaching could be heard. Cassandra turned to the noises and said, “Ma’zhar, let me hold them back. You take your time and get through those axes.”

“Cassandra, no! Ma’zhar—”

“This corridor is too small for the both of us to fight them anyways! I’ll be fine! Go!” Cassandra shouted before she began conjuring flames at the pursuing draugr. 

Ma’zhar took a deep breath and watched the axes closely. He was shaking with fear, but he knew he had to press on. Eventually, as the sounds of Cassandra fighting rung in his ear, he suddenly sprinted through the trap. He cleared the first three axes, but the last axe grazed his back. He cried out in pain and stumbled to the ground, passed the trap.

“Ma’zhar!?” the Khajiit heard Cassandra yell after his cry. He watched as Cassandra turned away from the draugr to look at him, and then saw one of the draugr smash into Cassandra’s left shoulder with a warhammer. Cassandra shrieked in pain and fell to the floor. 

Ma’zhar gasped. The draugr were closing in on Cassandra. There was no time to think. Ma’zhar got onto his hands and feet and dashed through the trap again, getting scraped a few more times by the axes. He ignored the pain and lunged towards the first undead standing over Cassandra. The Khajiit tackled the draugr and repeatedly clawed at its face, until it no longer had any discernible features. Before Ma’zhar could react, he felt a second draugr’s foot slam into his chin. Although Ma’zhar could no longer feel his face, the adrenaline was still pumping; the Khajiit lept to his feet and frantically shredded his attacker’s throat. Eventually, the draugr fell limply to the floor. 

Ma’zhar panted breathlessly, and held onto the wall to stop from falling over. His head was pounding and he felt pain all over his body. He could hardly stand up straight as his legs wobbled underneath him. The Khajiit slowly began to regain his composure as he caught his breath. He could hear Cassandra sobbing quietly on the ground. Ma’zhar slowly stood up straight, and rubbed his sore chin— though that pain paled in comparison to the many wounds on his back.

Ma’zhar looked down and saw Cassandra try to heal her shoulder, but the healing aura was visibly small and dim. “I feel…” Cassandra had to stop to breath, “Drained…” She glanced down at her shoulder, as it was now as mangled as the rest of her arm. 

“Ma’zhar needs to keep going…” the Khajiit spoke low due to exhaustion. 

“I know…” Cassandra spoke with pain in her voice. “I’m coming…” Cassandra groaned as she struggled to her feet.

“Cassandra can stay and rest.” Ma’zhar felt guilty; he felt like it was his fault that Cassandra was so injured. 

“I don’t want to leave you alone…” Cassandra uttered slowly as she managed to get into a sitting position. She tried to stand up, but sank back down to the ground as she cringed with pain. “I’ll join you soon… Take this.” Cassandra unclipped her sword belt and handed it Ma’zhar. “Good luck. I won’t be long…”

Ma’zhar took the sword belt and put it on, sheathing the sword in its scabbard. “Thank you,” Ma’zhar said before he forced himself through the trap again. He did not get hurt this time, but the trap had already done its damage; Ma’zhar’s back was covered in blood.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note! The next chapter will actually be the final chapter of A Frigid World. The other two chapters listed are the Epilogue, and Author's Notes.

Ma’zhar eventually approached the end of a corridor. There was a single, closed door in front of him. He unsheathed his sword, and slowly opened the door. He cautiously stepped through it. On his left, there was a balcony; the fighting was still going on below. On his right, there was a room. A room that held his prize. The prize that caused him so much pain, and so much suffering. The prize that caused his face and his back to be matted with blood. The prize that he loved so much. For a moment, all the pain and troubles went away as he laid eyes on Ysola. She seemed to be resting peacefully on a table. 

Ma’zhar slowly approached her, but before he could say a word, Shei-Ja walked out from the darkness of the back of the room and said, “Congratulations, Khajiit. You made it.” The Khajiit just glared at the Argonian, not saying a word. “But not without a bit of damage, I see.” The Argonian chuckled. “And I see your healer wasn’t so lucky.

“I’m surprised you made it here. But I suppose everything has been going better than expected for me lately. Not only do I get to kill you personally, but you also lead all of my enemies into this death trap. Your clan is here. My old clan is here. And now you are standing in front of me. At first, all I wanted to do was hold you for ransom. I wasn’t going to hurt you at all. And then, in the snow, I should’ve died. You were almost rid of me. But a nice man came along and patched me up, and brought me to his house. And who do I see out of the window? Why my old Khajiit and Nord friends reunited. And so that night, I devised my final plan. 

“I had been saving these ruins to kill my clan. To get revenge for what they had done to me. When they took my tail as punishment for taking a few extra septims. They thought I would be loyal to them after that! Fools! All of them! Just like you! They will die painlessly, perhaps, if they are crushed by a large rock. Some of them will die slowly, buried under piles of small rocks. Just rotting away with no one to help them. And you, you will certainly die painfully by my hand! You and this Nord bitch!” the last sentence of Shei-Ja’s rant became screaming. She suddenly pulled a lever next to her, and the entire ruins began to shake. Ma’zhar looked behind him, and saw that the ceiling of the entrance room was collapsing! 

Ma’zhar wanted to go to the balcony and try to warn his brother, but the balcony was suddenly destroyed by a large, falling rock. Ma’zhar anxiously tried to find his brother, but dust and rock were everywhere, making it impossible to see anything in the entrance room. The Khajiit hissed as he turned back towards Shei-Ja, who wore a large grin with her sharp teeth. “Come, Khajiit! Let me be the last thing you lay eyes on!” Shei-Ja shouted as she held up two daggers— her own dagger and Ma’zhar’s dagger. 

Ma’zhar angrily charged at the Argonian, sword ready to strike. He swung at her with all his might, but she effortlessly dodged him and sliced at his side with both daggers. Ma’zhar groaned in pain at the slashes, but quickly turned towards Shei-Ja and shoulder tackled her. The Argonian fell to the floor, and Ma’zhar tried to stab his sword into her, but she rolled out of the way. The sword got momentarily stuck into the floor, giving Shei-Ja time to get up and slash at Ma’zhar’s chest. The Khajiit abandoned the sword and was able to miss her attack by jumping backwards. 

The two stood still and stared for a moment— Ma’zhar now weaponless. Shei-Ja grinned before suddenly stabbing one of her daggers into Ysola’s leg. Ysola let out a faint groan of pain, causing Ma’zhar to begin shaking with fury and grief. Shei-Ja pulled Ma’zhar’s sword out of the ground, and held it up. Ma’zhar wanted to charge at her, and rip out her throat. However, he knew he had to be cautious, or he would end up dead. Although at this point, Ma’zhar felt helpless. He had no idea how he would beat Shei-Ja. Maybe, he could use his helplessness to his advantage. 

So, Ma’zhar collapsed onto his knees. He acted as though he was desperate and in anguish. “What are you doing?!” Shei-Ja hissed. 

“It is over…” Ma’zhar uttered sadly.

“You’re giving up…?” Shei-Ja’s voice suddenly became furious, “After all of this!? After doing everything to avoid me throughout Skyrim! Now you give up!?” Suddenly, Shei-Ja rushed up to Ma’zhar and kicked him in his chest before he could react. Ma’zhar flattened onto the floor, getting the wind knocked out of him. “You don’t deserve a quick death!” Shei-Ja stabbed the sword into one of Ma’zhar’s hands, causing him to cry out loudly. “I think I’ll declaw you first…” the Argonian growled as she grabbed Ma’zhar’s other hand while standing above him. 

Ma’zhar began to struggle, but it was too late. Shei-Ja took her dagger, stabbed it under Ma’zhar’s claw to pry off the claw. He screamed in agony as he felt his claw rip off of his flesh. He shook heavily in pain as the claw came off. He began to feel weak— the pain throughout his body did not dull —but his ability to struggle faded away. He cried weakly as he felt another claw begin to come off. Before the claw could be completely detached, Shei-Ja suddenly roared in pain and released Ma’zhar’s hand. Ma’zhar lifted his head and saw that Ysola had stabbed Shei-Ja in the back.

“You bitch!” Shei-Ja smacked Ysola and sent the weakened Nord to the ground. The Argonian kept her attention on Ysola. Ma’zhar knew he had to do something now. Ma’zhar was in extreme pain, but he had to fight it. The Khajiit reached up and grabbed the hilt of the sword stabbed in his other hand. He struggled to lift it up. He tried to lift it out of his hand with all of his strength, but he could not do it. He could not do it, until he saw Shei-Ja stab Ysola in her stomach. Ma’zhar tried to pull the sword free again, and it finally came out of his hand. Ma’zhar saw Shei-Ja stab Ysola again, as he desperately crawled over to the two of them. 

Before Shei-Ja could attack Ysola again, Ma’zhar suddenly stabbed the sword through the Argonian’s lower back. He watched from behind as Shei-Ja shuddered, and stared down at the blade now protruding through her stomach. “N-No…” Ma’zhar heard Shei-Ja say to herself. He felt no pity for her now. Ma’zhar pulled the sword free, and stabbed Shei-Ja through her upper back now— hoping the blade penetrated through her heart. In a few moments, the Argonian fell limp with the sword still in her. 

Ma’zhar’s eyes now fell upon Ysola. She was laying still; her stomach covered in blood. The Khajiit crawled over to her with the last bit of strength he had left. He was also covered in blood. He could hardly breathe, or keep his eyes open. He knew he was dying. He just hoped that he saved Ysola. He weakly and sluggishly reached into his pocket, and pulled out Ysola’s necklace. He dropped it around her neck, wrapped an arm around her, and laid his head on her chest. He could hear her heartbeat— a soothing sound. He let out a sigh of relief. She was alive. Ma’zhar could rest easy...


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The final chapter! I'm so excited that I actually got through this fic, and that it got much more attention than I expected! Make sure to stay tuned for the epilogue and bonus chapter (with a teaser for the next fic in the series!) that are coming very soon!

“By… gods… is… live…?” 

“Think… can… help…” 

“Should… leave?” 

“There… no… time…” 

“Ma’zhar… hear me?”

“Ma’zhar, please… Wake up.” Eventually, the fragmented voices came together and became clear.

Ma’zhar did not have the strength to make words, so he let out a groan. “Ma’zhar!” he heard Cassandra’s voice. 

“He’s alive!” he heard Ra’vaan’s voice. 

“Of course. He’s the toughest cat I know,” he heard Ysola’s voice. Ma’zhar tried to make words again, but only mumbled groans came out. He opened his eyes and saw three familiar faces staring down at him: Ra’vaan, Ysola, and Cassandra. “Hey, Ma’zhar. How are you feeling?”

“Fine…” Ma’zhar uttered softly. Ysola was smiling at him, so he smiled back before she kissed him gently. Ma’zhar was no longer in agony like before, but he was still in some pain. He noticed Cassandra healing his wounds. He also saw Kada sitting down, and Ra’vaan smiling. 

“I’m glad you’re alive.” Ra’vaan let out a sigh of relief.

“Ma’zhar thought… his brothers were dead…” Ma’zhar spoke weakly. He now noticed that they were in the same room as before, but Shei-Ja’s body was gone.

“Well, we didn’t all make it. It got about half of our Khajiit,” Ra’vaan sighed; there were a few Khajiit also in the room that Ma’zhar did not know. “Thankfully the Argonians decided to leave us alone and retreat after the collapse.”

“I think we should leave now. I might be a healer, but even I need some bandages.” Cassandra stood up. “Can you two walk?” 

Ma’zhar had not noticed, but Ysola was still on the ground with him. The two of them slowly got to their feet. Ma’zhar’s legs were not injured, but he was tired— very tired. So tired it was difficult to stand, and even more difficult to walk. But Ma’zhar managed to drag himself along. The group walked through another passage stemming from the room, and eventually they made it outside. 

Ma’zhar groaned as the bright light hit his eyes, but he was happy to be out in the open. He never appreciated the cold, fresh air filling his lungs more than this moment. He did not think he would ever see sunlight again. He thought those ruins would be his final resting place. 

Soon, Ma’zhar found himself in Solitude on a bed where his wounds were wrapped up and tended to— mostly by Cassandra herself. 

“The only damage that may be permanent is to your left eye,” Cassandra told Ma’zhar after she finished treating him. Ma’zhar’s eyelid was still swollen and covering his left eye, so he had not realized that he could not fully see out of it. “It’s been ruptured, but only very slightly. I don’t want to perform any surgery or enucleation, because it could heal itself. I can’t really tell.” Ma’zhar nodded as she spoke. “But if your eye continues to hurt you once you’re in Leyawiin, I would seek out a very experienced healer to remove it.”

Eventually, Ra’vaan entered the room with Kada at his feet. “How are you feeling, brother?” Ra’vaan asked.

“Ma’zhar will be okay.” 

“I had no idea you were such a warrior. I tried to tell mother not to send you, but I guess you proved me wrong.” Ra’vaan smiled and walked over to Ma’zhar.

“You don’t know the half of it yet.” Ysola chuckled.

“You can tell me all about it on the way to Leyawiin.” Ra’vaan crossed his arms and leaned against a wall.

“Does Ra’vaan mean it? Can Ysola come to Leywaiin?” Ma’zhar sat up in his bed in excitement, causing him to groan lightly from his injuries. 

Ra’vaan nodded. “I think you’ve earned it. Plus, I don’t want to be the one to tell you no after what you did in those ruins.”

“Ma’zhar did not do it all alone…” the Khajiit looked over at Cassandra as he spoke. 

“I see.” Ra’vaan smiled at Cassandra and stepped over to her, taking her hand and kissing it. “There is a spot in Leyawiin for you too.”

Cassandra smiled. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ve got other matters to attend to.” 

“Very well.” Ra’vaan released her hand. “We leave at sundown. It’s still early in the day, but I advise you to go settle your affairs soon, Ysola. I’ll see you later. Outside of the gates.” 

“Ra’vaan. What about the delivery…?” Ma’zhar said as he reached for the pouch around his waist, only to realize it was gone.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. We’ll figure things out when we get home.” Ra’vaan and Kada left the room.

Ma’zhar slowly climbed out of bed, as did Ysola. “Is Ysola going to say goodbye to her family?” Ma’zhar asked.

“Should I?” Ysola stretched lightly. “As far as they know, I died in those ruins.”

“Ysola’s brothers? Her father? Blaise?”

“My pa died a few years ago. And I will go say goodbye to my brothers, but I’d like you to come meet them too. I guess they deserve to meet the man… Khajiit that I’m in love with.” Ysola smiled. “It’ll hurt to say goodbye to Blaise, but he deserves it.”

Ma’zhar and Ysola prepared to leave. Before they left, Cassandra hugged them both. “Good luck, you two. Thank you for everything.” 

“Thank you,” Ma’zhar spoke happily, “Ma’zhar could not have done this without Cassandra.”

“I have something for you, Ma’zhar. I think it’s something you deserve.” Cassandra reached on a table next to her and handed Ma’zhar her sword— scabbard, belt, and all. 

“Is Cassandra sure?” Ma’zhar hesitantly took the weapon. 

“Of course. They’ve got swords all over the place for me to take, but I think this one should be… special to you.” 

“Thank you.” Ma’zhar put the belt around his waist. 

“If I ever get back to Cyrodiil, I hope I’ll be able to visit you in Leyawiin.” Cassandra smiled, and they all hugged once more. They said goodbye one final time, and Ma’zhar and Ysola left Castle Dour. 

Ysola and Ma’zhar visited Ysola’s brothers. Ma’zhar was pleasantly surprised that her brothers accepted him, especially after Ysola told them what Ma’zhar had done for her. After that, Ysola and Ma’zhar visited Ysola’s home. 

Blaise was outside, playing with a wooden sword as the two approached. “Mama!” Blaise exclaimed as he ran up to them. “I was so worried after you got taken!” 

“I know,” Ysola spoke glumly as she hugged Blaise. She broke the hug, and dropped to a knee to look her son in the eyes. “I have to leave, Blaise.” 

“You’re not coming back this time… Are you?” Blaise asked bluntly.

Ysola hugged him again. “I’m sorry, Blaise. I love you.”

“I love you too, mama.” Blaise shut his eyes as he hugged her tightly. “Thank you for adopting me.”

Ma’zhar looked away from the hug; it was too sad for him to watch. As he looked away, he noticed a figure looking out of the window of the house. It was Marius. His arms were crossed as he was staring straightfaced at the two hugging. Marius did not seem upset; he hardly showed any emotion at all. Ma’zhar figured that Marius had accepted Ysola leaving, and Ma’zhar was glad of it.

The rest of the day passed by rather slowly, but eventually the sun set. Ysola and Ma’zhar met Ra’vaan and Kada just outside of the Solitude gates. There transport was a large carriage, as well as eight Khajiit warriors on horseback that were there to escort them. 

“Are you finally ready to leave Skyrim?” Ra’vaan rubbed Ma’zhar’s head playfully. 

Before Ma’zhar could answer, a loud roar could be heard. Out in the distance, the silhouette of some large, flying creature could be seen against Masser. “Definitely ready to leave…” Ma’zhar let out a fearful sigh, and hurried into the carriage. 

“Wow, a real dragon…” Ysola watched it until it disappeared from view, and then entered the carriage. 

“Are you coming in, Kada?” Ra’vaan asked the Alfiq. Kada hopped into the carriage, and Ra’vaan chuckled. “Maybe I just felt like asking.” Ra’vaan climbed in last, and the carriage took off. 

Inside of the carriage, Ma’zhar laid his head on Ysola’s shoulder and closed his eyes. His adventures in Skyrim were the most exciting of his life, but he was glad to leave them behind. He was happy that he was returning home with just a few scars and the love of his young life.


	28. Epilogue - Ra'vaan

“Mother! I’m home!” I called out jokingly as I entered Mother’s room. 

“Zaina noticed. Ra’vaan does not need to speak like man at his own home.” Mother, or Zaina, a female Khajiit with dark grey fur, looked up from her book.

“Nice try, Mother. You honestly think I’d forget to always talk like man? After only a few years?” Mother always liked to test me. I was taught to talk like man, since I would be dealing with them so often in Skyrim. I smiled and walked over to Mother, affectionately nuzzling my forehead against hers. 

“It has been too long, Ra’vaan.” She set down her book. “But why is Ra’vaan back?” She stood up from her chair and looked out of her window. Her room was on the top floor of the building, and she could see all from her window.

I chuckled. “Let’s just say Ma’zhar’s delivery did not go exactly as expected.”

“We are about to have dinner. Ra’vaan can tell his mother all about it there.” She continued to gaze out of the window as she asked, “Who is that large woman with Ma’zhar…?”

I cleared my throat before answering, “Maybe that’s something he should tell you… ”

“Why is that?” Mother looked back at me now. 

“Well… That’s your son’s new lover…” I said awkwardly, not sure how she would respond.

“What!? He is a kitten! She is a beast!” Mother hissed. 

“Mother, listen,” I urged, “Without her, Ma’zhar probably wouldn’t even be alive right now. Don’t be hasty.”

Mother rubbed her forehead and sighed. “Why did Ra’vaan even let her come along? Does she even know what we do?”

“Not exactly, but I couldn’t tell Ma’zhar no. He did a lot in Skyrim. I think you’ll be proud of him.” 

“Zaina will take Ra’vaan’s word for it. For now.” She stared out of the window again. “Did Ra’vaan even get the delivery?”

“Not really. More importantly, though, our enemies are getting wiser.” I sat down in Mother’s chair now.

“What does Ra’vaan mean?”

“The Silverscales. According to Ma’zhar, one of them was in his carriage with him on the way to Skyrim. They ambushed him as soon as he got into Skyrim. And they were waiting for him in Solitude. I even had to battle them at one point, Alin-Ei himself.”

Mother sighed. “We are going to have to hire more people. We need more security everywhere. The Silverscales are getting bolder.” 

“We can’t trust hiring people. We need more Khajiit! From Elsweyr!” I asserted. 

“The Dominion presence in Elsweyr is too great! It is a danger just importing the moon sugar!” Mother responded sharply. 

“You’ve got the Dominion wrapped around your finger here in Leyawiin! Torval can’t be that different!” I responded just as sharply.

“Ra’vaan does not know what the Dominion is like in Torval…” Mother’s voice suddenly settled.

“Then tell me what it’s like…” I stood up and slowly approached Mother, speaking softly, “Tell me what happened in Torval. Tell me what happened to my real mother.” Mother was quiet. “Please. I need to know.”

“Ra’vaan should know those things are difficult for Zaina to even think about…”

“I know, but I think it’s time you told all of us what happened to our families, our parents. Especially, you need to tell Ma’zhar.”


	29. Bonus Chapter

Hello! And thank you so much for reading A Frigid World! This is just a little bonus chapter with some questions for readers, some teasers for upcoming fanfics in the series, and some other things! 

First of all, I’d love to hear some of your thoughts on this fic, so I have just a few questions for you guys on what I’m very interested about. However, please include your other thoughts outside of these questions! 

Who was your favorite character(s)? Any character(s) you particularly didn’t like? 

Did you have any favorite chapters, sequences, or scenes? My favorite sequence, for example, was Ma’zhar and Cassandra’s time in Reyzjavic. 

Is there anything you can think of that could’ve improved this fic, or anything I could do to improve my future fics? 

There will be another question, but it’s related to future fanfics. Which is a great transition into revealing the next fanfic in the Tenmar Chronicles series! Its title is currently tentative at the moment, but it’ll probably be called either “Something’s in the Air,” or “The Shepherdess.” Nevertheless, here’s a short teaser for the story. 

“As if the Empire was not in enough strife already, Cyrodiil and her people have fallen under attack once again. A mysterious disease has begun to sweep across Cyrodiil, and a dysfunctional family of healers might be the Empire’s, and Tamriel’s, only hope for survival. 

“This is a tale of sisterhood, love, loss, survival, family, imprisonment, and illness— both mental and physical. This is the tale of Cassandra Marie, the greatest healer in all of Tamriel.”

I hope you’re as excited for that as I am! Currently, I’d say I’m about a fourth of the way done with that fic. I’m planning on it being considerably longer than A Frigid World, perhaps twice as long, but we will see. A few things to note is that the fic will be considerably more “darker” than A Frigid World. The fic will touch on mental illness, prostitution and human trafficking, discrimination, imprisonment and torture, substance abuse and addiction, and tons of other dark themes. Cassandra’s really in for it this time. 

I already have a ton of fics planned for this series, but I’d like to hear which fics you think I should prioritize, or even create at all. As you know, tons of characters were introduced in A Frigid World that have spin-off potential written all over them. Were there any characters in particular that you wished would get their own story, like Cassandra will be getting? I should note that Dralos Aryn in particular is getting his own story already, probably a short one directly after Cassandra’s is finished. Besides him, though, I don’t have any solid plans for stories for any of the other minor characters in A Frigid World. That doesn’t mean they’ll never get stories, but with some encouragement from you guys, I would definitely get their stories developed. 

I’d like to thank anyone reading this so much for taking the time to read this fic. This was truly the first fic I’ve ever written (I wrote the original first chapter of A Frigid World over four years ago!!!) and the first fic I’ve ever finished. I hope you all enjoyed, and will continue to read my work! The next fic should be coming relatively soon, hopefully within the week, and I’m so excited to continue this series. Thanks again! And see you in the next fic!


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